his old host. The authorities had required some particulars concerning Lecomte, and he had given them Dumas's name as a reference. The novelist duly furnished the officials with such facts about the gentleman in question that he was ordered to leave the city at once. Then the other, foreseeing a public disturbance, armed himself with a stout cane.
The precaution was a wise one. As the romancer was standing by the door of a carriage, chatting with a lady friend, in a public avenue one day, Lecomte, accompanied by a "backer," strode up, and without a word of warning struck at his old patron. Dumas parried the blow, and cut the rogue across the face with his cane. Then, turning to his assailant's "second," one Prince Korsakoff, he declared that he would not cross swords with a creature like Lecomte, but would willingly meet the Prince, if he chose to take up his companion's quarrel.
Korsakoff at once accepted, but before the duel came about he wrote to Dumas stating that he had heard certain truths about M. Lecomte, and now refused either to fight for him or to continue his acquaintance.
There are several morals to this incident, which have their bearing on Dumas's success—and failure—in life.
