his sword, and threatened to resent this indignity. The Captain, holding up his stick, bid him draw at his peril. Mrs. Mirvan, greatly alarmed, got out of the coach, and, standing between them, entreated her husband to re-enter the house.
"None of your clack!" cried he, angrily; "what the D—l, do you suppose I can't manage a Frenchman?"
Mean time, Madame Duval called out to M. Du Bois, "Eh, laisez-le, mon ami, ne le corriger pas; c'est une vilain bête qui ne vaut pas la peine."
"Monsieur le Capitaine," cried M. Du Bois, "voulez-vous bien ne demander pardon?"
"O ho, you demand pardon; do you?" said the Captain, "I thought as much; I thought you'd come to;—so you have lost your relish for an English salutation, have you?" strutting up to him with looks of defiance.
A crowd was now gathering, and Mrs. Mirvan again besought her husband to go into the house.
"Why what a plague is the woman afraid of?—did you ever know a Frenchman that could not take an affront?—I warrant Monsieur knows what he is about;—don't you, Monsieur?"
M. Du Bois, not understanding him, only said, "plait-il, Monsieur?"
"No
