"A handsome piece of armour, there is no doubt about it; but it must have weighed pretty heavily on its wearer's shoulders," he muttered; and, urged by I know not what demon, he clapped it on his head and latched the gorget-piece about his neck. Struck almost speechless, I watched what he was doing--thinking only how ugly he looked. Suddenly there was a sharp sound--as if a spring had snapped--and--crack!--down fell the visor; and there was my uncle, with his head in an iron cage, gesticulating and swearing like a pagan! I could contain myself no longer, and burst into a roar of laughter; for my uncle, stumpy, fat, and rubicund, presented an irresistibly comic appearance. [Illustration: "THREATENINGLY HE CAME TOWARDS ME."] Threateningly, he came towards me. "The hinges!--the hinges, fool!" he yelled. I could not see his face, but I felt that it was red to bursting. "When you have done laughing, idiot!" he cried. But the helmet swayed so oddly on his shoulders, his voice came from out it in such strange tones, that the more he gesticulated, the more he yelled and threatened me, the louder I laughed. At that moment the clock of the Hôtel-de-Ville, striking five, was heard. "The Municipal Council!" murmured my uncle, in a stifled voice. "Quick! help me off with this beast of a machine! We'll settle our business afterwards!" But, suddenly likewise, an idea--a wild, extraordinary idea--came into my head; but then, whoever is madder than a lover? Besides, I had no choice of means. "No!" I replied. My uncle fell back two paces in terror--and again the enormous helmet wobbled on his shoulders. "No," I repeated, firmly, "I'll not help you out, unless you give me the hand of my cousin Rose!" From the depths of the strangely elongated visor came, not an angry exclamation, but a veritable roar. I had "done it!"--I had burned my ships! "If you do not consent to do what I ask of you," I added, "not only will I not help you off with your helmet, but I will call in all your neighbours, and then go and find the Municipal Council!" "You'll end your days on the scaffold!" cried my uncle. "The hand of Rose!" I repeated. "You told me that it would only be by force that you would be made to say 'yes'--say it, or I will call in the neighbours!" The clock was still striking; my uncle raised his arms as if to curse me. "Decide at once," I cried, "somebody is coming!" "Well, then--yes!" murmured my uncle. "But make haste!" "On your word of honour?" "On my word of honour!" The visor gave way, the gorget-piece also, and my uncle's head issued from durance, red as a poppy. Just in time. The chemist at the corner, a colleague in the Municipal Council, entered the shop. "Are you coming?" he asked; "they will be beginning the business without us." "I'm coming," replied my uncle. And without looking at me, he took up his hat and cane and hurried out. The next moment all my hopes had vanished. My uncle would surely not forgive me.