"More than you have, I'll wager."

"Then you should know that people don't fight without seconds; it is forbidden."

"I am very well aware that it is customary to have them; but we don't always conform to custom. For instance, Monsieur Monleard and I fought without seconds."

"But, monsieur, as I have no desire to find myself with a wretched affair on my hands on your account, I tell you that I will not fight without seconds."

"So be it! As you insist upon it, we will have them."

"Your address, monsieur?"

"Here it is: Cherami, Hotel du Bel-Air, Rue de l'Orillon, Belleville."

"Belleville! So you don't live in Paris?"

"I am in the suburbs. Does that disturb you?"

"It is a matter of absolute indifference to me; but my seconds will not call on you until ten o'clock, for I don't choose to make them get up at daylight."

"At ten o'clock, then, I will expect them. And now, monsieur le comte, permit me to offer you my respects."

"Good-day, monsieur, good-day!"

Monsieur de la Beriniere buried himself anew under the bedclothes, decidedly put out by the visit he had received. As for Cherami, he said to himself when he was in the street:

"I have my cue! He will fight--aye, but my seconds--I must have two; I absolutely must have them, or no duel. Where shall I find them? It's d.a.m.nably embarra.s.sing. I can't think of a solitary soul. Sapristi! where can I find two seconds? There's nothing to be said; I must have two, and two pa.s.sably respectable ones, to-morrow morning!"

LI

THE DAY WITH THE RABBITS

On leaving Rue de la Ville-l'eveque, Arthur Cherami followed the boulevard in the direction of the Bastille; he did not take an omnibus--first, because he was in no hurry; and, secondly, because he had reflected:

"If I could happen to meet in the street some old friend, some good fellow, I would ask him to be my second. On a pinch, if it was necessary, I would sacrifice myself so far as to pay for his breakfast or dinner--but at a soup-kitchen only."

But Cherami arrived at Boulevard du Temple, without falling in with what he sought.

"Shall I go home?" he thought; "what's the use? My hotel is not the place to find what I want; the poor devils who lodge there seldom wear coats. I am sure that this Comte de la Beriniere will send me two very distinguished gentlemen; they will turn up their noses enough when they see the Widow Louchard's hotel; I must confront them with men who represent---- d.a.m.nation! I haven't my cue! it's infernally embarra.s.sing!

The devil take the obstinacy of that count, who insists on having seconds!"

As he walked on, Cherami saw a short man coming toward him, armed with a pretty cane of cherry wood.

"Here comes a grotesque figure which reminds me of a clown I have seen somewhere or other," he said to himself. "Pardieu! it's Courbichon. I must catch him on the wing."

The little bald man was speechless with surprise when he found his pa.s.sage barred by a tall man; and he seemed by no means pleased when he recognized the gentleman with whom he had dined on the Champs-elysees.

But Cherami seized his hand and shook it warmly.

"A lucky meeting!" he said; "it is my dear Monsieur Courbichon! _Bone Deus!_ So we are no longer in Touraine?"

"Ah! monsieur, I have the honor--no, as you see, I am in Paris."

"And fresher and l.u.s.tier than ever! I am tempted to repeat the fable: 'How pretty you are! how handsome you look to me!'"

"You don't need to: I know it."

"That's a pretty cane you have there. It isn't the same one, is it?"

"No, monsieur; it certainly isn't the one you broke."

"Didn't you have it mended?"

"It wasn't mendable, monsieur."

"Nonsense! why, they even mend porcelain! This is cherry, I see; let me look at it."

Cherami put out his hand for the cane, but Monsieur Courbichon hastily put it behind his back.

"No, no," he cried; "I have no desire that you should break this one too; one was quite enough."

"Oh! mon Dieu! my excellent and worthy friend, who said anything about breaking your cane? There is n.o.body throwing skittles at your legs at this moment, and I fancy that this switch is worth quite as much as your cherry stick."

"Did this one come from China, too?"

"No, my boy. Do not revive my sorrow! My Chinese switch will never be replaced; but enough about canes. I have a very great favor to ask of you, my dear Monsieur Courbichon, one of those favors which a man of honor never refuses to grant."

"I have no money with me at this moment, monsieur; and it would be impossible for me----"

"Who the devil said anything about money? Mordieu! do I look like a man who borrows money?"

Monsieur Courbichon examined Cherami, who had made himself as fine as possible for his visit to Monsieur de la Beriniere; and he took off his hat, murmuring:

"I beg your pardon; indeed, I had not noticed---- But what is the favor you wish to ask me, monsieur?"

"A nothing, a mere bagatelle--to act as my second in a duel, to-morrow."

"A duel! it's about a duel! and you dare to propose to me to take part in it! What have I done to you, monsieur, that you should suggest such a thing to me?"

"I tell you, Monsieur Courbichon, it's a mere matter of form; the seconds don't fight."

"I, be present at a duel! Understand that I never fought a duel, monsieur! I would rather die than fight!"

"You are like Gribouille, then, who jumped into the water for fear of the rain."

"It's an outrage, your proposition to me! I will request you, monsieur, not to speak to me hereafter. I do not consort with men who fight duels, not I! Don't detain me, or I shall call for help."