What further atrocity the ruffian was about to utter, I know not, for while his odious voice was yet hissing in my ear these atrocious epithets, before the footman who was standing, as I have said, a few yards off at the other side of the carriage, had time to interfere, I heard the sound of a horse at full gallop, and, the next instant, he was dragged forcibly away, and I saw him quivering in the furious grasp of the Count de Chavannes, who had, it seems, been returning to join us, when the assault was committed. To gallop to my side, to spring to the ground, to collar the ruffian, drag him from the carriage, and lash him with his whole strength with a rough jockey whip till he fairly screamed for mercy, were but the work of a moment. And I could not but marvel afterwards to think how much power and nervous energy his indignant spirit had lent to his slight frame and slender limbs; for in size, he was by no means superior to G--, whom he nevertheless handled almost as if he had been a child of five years old. Want of breath at last, rather than want of will, compelled him to pause in his exercise; and then turning towards us with an air as composed and smiling as if he had been merely dancing a quadrille, he took off his hat, saying:-- "I must implore your pardon, ladies, yours more especially, Mademoiselle Valerie, for enacting such a scene in your presence. _Mais c'etait plus fort que moi_!" he added, laughing. "I could not contain myself at seeing a lady so infamously insulted." Caroline and the Misses Selwyn were so much frightened by the whole fracas, that they were really unable to answer, and I was for the moment so much taken by surprise, that I could not find words to reply. At this moment, covered with dust and blood, for the whip had cut his face in several places, without his hat, and with all his gay attire besmeared and rent, G--again came up towards the carriage. He was very pale, nay white, even to the lips--but it was evidently not with terror but with rage, as his first words testified-- "_Monsieur le Comte de Chavannes_," he said, slowly, "_car je vous connais, et vous me connaitrez aussi, je vous le jure; vous m'avez frappe, vous me rendrez satisfaction, n'est-ce pas_?" "Oh! no, no," I exclaimed, before he could answer, clasping my hands eagerly together, "oh, no, no! not on my account, I implore you, Monsieur le Comte--no life on my account--above all, not yours!" He thanked me by one expressive glance, which spoke volumes to my heart, and perhaps read volumes in return, in my pale face and trembling lips, then turned with a calm smile to his late antagonist, and answered him in English. "I do not know in the least, sir, who you are, and I do not suppose that I ever shall know. I chastised you, five minutes since, for insulting this lady most grossly--" "Lady!" interrupted the ruffian, with a sneer. "Lady. Lady of plea--"