Signol withdrew them a second time. But, at the end of another two minutes, the young officer felt, not merely his irritating neighbour's hands but also his head upon his shoulder. This time he lost all patience, jumped up and turned round.
"Monsieur! monsieur!" he exclaimed, "if you are doing it on purpose to pick a quarrel with me, tell me so outright."
"Very well, then; it is done on purpose," Signol replied, rising too.
"Why?"
"On purpose to insult you, and if I have not done sufficient to that end already, take that!" And the angry madman gave Marulaz a blow across the face.
Thoroughly astounded at this incomprehensible conduct, the young officer mechanically drew his sword half out of its sheath.
"Look!" shouted Signol, "he is going to murder me!"
Marulaz pushed his sword back again into its scabbard and replied—
"No, monsieur; I will not assassinate you, but I will kill you!"
And, to avenge the insult he had thus gratuitously received, Marulaz, who was very strong, lifted Signol as though he had been a child right across from the one row to his own, and then placed him under his feet.