“Be advised, young gentleman; unsay your words, and go your way,” said an elder one of the party; while he added in a whisper, “De Beauvais has no equal in Paris with the small sword.” “There is my address,” said I, seizing a pen, and writing on a piece of paper before me. “Ha!” said De Beauvais, as he threw his eye on the writing; “he has got his grade, it seems: all the better that,--I half shrunk from the ridicule of an affair with a cadet. So you are serious about this?” “Sir!” said I, all my efforts being barely enough to repress my rising passion. “Well, well! enough about it. To-morrow morning; the Bois de Boulogne; the rapier. You understand me, I suppose?” I nodded, and was about to leave the place, when I remembered that in my confusion I had neither asked my antagonist's name nor rank. “And you, sir,” said I, “may I have the honor to learn who you are?” “Pardieu, my young friend!” cried one of the others; “The information will not strengthen your nerves. But if you will have it, he is the Marquis de Beauvais, and tolerably well known in that little locality where he expects to meet you to-morrow.” “Till then, sir,” replied I, touching my cap, as I turned into the street; not, however, before a burst of laughter rang through the party at a witticism of which I was the object, and the latter part of which only could I catch. It was De Beauvais who spoke: “In which case, Crillac, another artist must take his measure.” The allusion could not be mistaken, and I confess I did not relish it like the others. I should, I fear, have fallen very low in the estimate of my companions and associates could the real state of my heart at that moment have been laid open to them. It was, I freely own, one of great depression. But an hour ago, and life was opening before me with many a bright and cheerful hope; and now in an instant was my fortune clouded. Let me not be misunderstood: among the rules of the Polytechnique, duelling was strictly forbidden; and although numerous transgressions occurred, so determined was the head of the Government to put down the practice, that the individuals thus erring were either reduced in rank or their promotion stopped for a considerable period, while the personal displeasure of Greneral Bonaparte rarely failed to show itself with reference to them. Now, it was clear to me that some unknown friend, some secret well-wisher, had interested himself in my humble fate,--that I owed my newly acquired rank to his kindness and good offices. What, then, might I not be forfeiting by this unhappy rencontre? Was it not more than likely that such an instance of misconduct, the very day of my promotion, might determine the whole tenor of my future career? What misrepresentation might not gain currency about my conduct? These were sad reflections indeed, and every moment but increased them.