Bruno’s last remark lent a sharp piquancy to the situation. The women were quite elated at the prospect of a dispute; while the men crowded around, fearing lest they should lose a word. Andoche frowned and his face assumed an ugly expression. He never hesitated to give a blow, and his two short arms had a terrible reputation at Quarré, Rouvray, and Trinquelin. “Who ever saw such an insolent cur?” said he, livid with rage. For an answer Bruno struck his fist full upon the fat, red face of the stupefied Andoche. The blacksmith, for such he was, in his ill-fitting clothes, stood gaping, with his mouth and eyes wide open--struck dumb for a moment by the young man’s temerity. Had he been inebriated, as was often the case, he would not have hesitated. But now he seemed half afraid, until Firmin’s jeering voice goaded him to violence. “Good heavens!” roared Andoche, desperately, “take that!” And he planted a cruel blow upon Bruno’s chest. Poor Bruno! he fell in a heap upon the grass. Andoche, making the most of his advantage, then leaped upon his adversary. The unfortunate fellow, brave to the last, rose to his knees only to receive another stinging blow. Firmin, meanwhile, showed himself the coward by urging the blacksmith to greater violence. Andoche again furiously seized the young man by the throat and would have strangled him, but for a new-comer, a man brawny and wiry, who stepped forward, suddenly took the blacksmith himself by the throat and pressed him so hard that, muttering a cry of pain, he relaxed his hold upon Bruno and tried to get away. “The Bear!” he cried, in a stifled voice. He scarcely found himself released, when in a spasm of rage Bruno’s adversary started to punish the man who had interfered. But the tables were turned. With no great effort “the Bear” took Andoche between his iron hands, raised and hurled him to the ground. A stronger man than Andoche was master of the field. “It is cowardly,” said he, “to beat a fellow like that. Andoche, let Firmin and Bruno settle the dispute. Bruno is courageous, and Firmin is cowardly. That statement is but just. But you! I should have thought you more honorable!” “What a shock you gave me!” pitifully cried Andoche, who had no desire to prolong the fight. “What caused the row? Bruno is not the lad to be incensed for nothing.” “They were doubting the purity of Madame Catherine,” said Bruno. “The gamekeeper’s wife?” queried “the Bear,” with some agitation. “Yes, Madame Barrau, if you please.” “Well, well,” said “the Bear,” with an assumed nonchalance. Then after a slight pause he added: “It is none of my affair. But if again I catch you attacking a man like little Bruno, Andoche, I will dash you to pieces.” The blacksmith, remembering his last lesson, hung his head and said nothing. “Bruno, my lad, come with me,” said “the Bear,” as he turned to go. But Bruno did not wish to retreat under another’s protection like a coward. “No, thank you,” he said: “I will remain.”