THE ILLUSTRIOUS GAUDISSART
Page: 38

conjured him to find some way to arrange matters and save the credit
of the district.

"I take it all upon myself," said the sagacious landlord.

In the evening he went up to the traveller's room carrying pens, ink,
and paper.

"What have you got there?" asked Gaudissart.

"If you are going to fight to-morrow," answered Mitouflet, "you had
better make some settlement of your affairs; and perhaps you have
letters to write,--we all have beings who are dear to us. Writing
doesn't kill, you know. Are you a good swordsman? Would you like to
get your hand in? I have some foils."

"Yes, gladly."

Mitouflet returned with foils and masks.

"Now, then, let us see what you can do."

The pair put themselves on guard. Mitouflet, with his former prowess
as grenadier of the guard, made sixty-two passes at Gaudissart, pushed
him about right and left, and finally pinned him up against the wall.

"The deuce! you are strong," said Gaudissart, out of breath.

"Monsieur Vernier is stronger than I am."

"The devil! Damn it, I shall fight with pistols."

"I advise you to do so; because, if you take large holster pistols and
load them up to their muzzles, you can't risk anything. They are SURE
to fire wide of the mark, and both parties can retire from the field
with honor. Let me manage all that. Hein! 'sapristi,' two brave men
would be arrant fools to kill each other for a joke."

"Are you sure the pistols will carry WIDE ENOUGH? I should be sorry to
kill the man, after all," said Gaudissart.

"Sleep in peace," answered Mitouflet, departing.

The next morning the two adversaries, more or less pale, met beside
the bridge of La Cise. The brave Vernier came near shooting a cow
which was peaceably feeding by the roadside.

"Ah, you fired in the air!" cried Gaudissart.

At these words the enemies embraced.

"Monsieur," said the traveller, "your joke was rather rough, but it
was a good one for all that. I am sorry I apostrophized you: I was
excited. I regard you as a man of honor."

"Monsieur, we take twenty subscriptions to the 'Children's Journal,'"
replied the dyer, still pale.