‘Explain!’ cried several to Theria. ‘What was the tumult owing to?’
‘A woman, of course,’ answered Camille. ‘You know La Duménil?’
‘Proceed, proceed,’ exclaimed the others. The name was apparently well known amongst the scholars.
‘Well—her lackey stumbled against the chair on which Madame de la Beaume was kneeling, and got a box on the ears from the latter for his stupidity, that rang all through the church. La Duménil took part with her servant, and soundly abused the other, to which La Beaume replied as heartily, and the service was stopped.’
‘The quarrel must have been amusing,’ observed Glazer.
‘Ventrebleu! the women in the halles and markets would have turned pale at their salutations. At last La Duménil threw a missal at her opponent’s head, which well-nigh brought her to the ground. The people collected about them, and Madame de Brinvilliers was nearly crushed by the crowd, when I rescued her and led her to the porch.’
‘And what said she, Camille?’ inquired Glazer.
‘She was thanking me earnestly, and might have expressed something more, when that no-witted Blacquart spoilt everything by calling me back again. In his Gascon chivalry to defend La Beaume he had drawn his sword against Duménil.’
‘I think that was somewhat courageous though,’ returned Glazer with mock approbation. ‘Did you really do this, Jean?’
‘On my faith I did,’ answered the Gascon, brightening up; ‘and would do it again. I should like to see the woman in Paris that I am afraid of.’