"By Jove!" I replied, "that's a fine question:' it is my business to have one!"
"Would you favour me with your name?"
"Alexandre Dumas."
"Oh! monsieur!" (He held out his hand to me.) "My name is Bixio ... Profession—medical student. If I get killed, here is my card; have the goodness to see that I am carried home. If you are wounded, I will put my scientific knowledge at your disposal."
"Monsieur, I hope that neither your card nor your knowledge will be required; but, all the same, I will take the one and accept the other. Take care to remember my name, if you please, as I will remember yours!"
We shook hands, and our friendship dated from that meeting.
The barricades finished, we left them to be guarded by those who had helped to make them.
"Now, then," I said to Bixio, "where are you going?"
"I am going in the direction of Gros-Caillou."