“'No, no,' said the Austrian; 'I couldn't do what you propose,--I should be dishonored forever if I took such an advantage of you. You must know, François,' for he called me so, recurring at once to his tone of kindliness, 'I am the first swordsman of my brigade.' “I could scarcely avoid throwing myself into his arms as he spoke; never was there such a piece of fortune. 'And I,' cried I, in ecstasy, 'I the first of the whole French army!' You know, Comrades, I only said that _en gascon_, and to afford him the greater pleasure in our _rencontre_. “We soon measured our swords and threw off our jackets. 'François,' said he, 'I ought to mention to you that my lunge _en tierce_ is my famous stroke; I rarely miss running my adversary through the chest with it.' “'I know the trick well,' said I; 'take care of my “pass” outside the guard.' “'Oh! if that's your game,' said he, laughing, 'I'll make short work of it. Now, to begin.' “'All ready,' said I; 'en garde!' And we crossed our weapons. For a German he was a capital swordsman, and had a very pretty trick of putting in his point over the hilt, and wounding the sword-arm; but if it had not been for all the wine I drank the affair would have been over in a second or two. As it was, we both fenced loose, and without any judgment whatever. “'Ah! you got that,' said I, 'at last!' as I pierced him in the back, outside the guard. “'No, no!' cried he, passionately; for his temper was up, and he would not confess a touch. “'Well, then, that's home!' said I, thrusting beneath his hilt, till the blood spurted out along my blade and even in my eyes. “'Yes, that's home,' said he, staggering back, while one of his legs crossed over the other, and he fell heavily on the grass. I stooped down to feel his heart; and as I did so my senses failed, my limbs tottered, and I rolled headlong over him. Truth was, I was badly wounded, though I never knew when; for his sword had entered my chest, beneath a rib, and cut some large vessels in the lungs. “The end of it all was, the Austrian was buried, and I was broke the service without pay or pension, my wound being declared by the doctors an incapacity to serve in future. “Comrades, we often hear men talk of the happy day before them when they shall leave the army and throw off the knapsack, and give up the musket for the mattock. Well, trust me, it's no such pleasure as they deem it, after all. There was I, turned loose upon the world, with nothing but a suit of ragged clothes my comrades made up amongst them, my old rapier, and a bad asthma. Such was my stock-in-trade, to begin life anew, at the age of forty-seven. And so, I set out on my weary way back to Paris.” “Didn't you try your chance with the Petit Caporal first?” asked one of the listeners.