What became of him after he left me I never heard. The last report was that he had carried off his own landlady, and that the two had started some sort of show together.
CHAPTER IV.
A PRESENTATION UNDER CURIOUS CIRCUMSTANCES.
After my engagement at the Royal came a holiday in Paris. It was there I met a very dear school friend, whom I had not seen since I was about ten years of age. My friend’s father was at this time German Consul at Paris. The incident which followed our meeting will be better explained by prefacing the story with the statement that as boys we were great billiard players. We were continually playing at each other’s houses, and, though we were such mere lads, we could even beat our fathers at the game. Nothing, therefore, was more natural than that, when we met, my friend should ask me if I was still a good player. As a matter of fact I was not in practice, but that did not deter us from deciding to try our skill. So we went to a room which he selected, and started a game. He did not know then that I had made my strength a profession; he was rather under the impression that I had followed my father’s desire and studied medicine. However, the game began, and, as we talked a good deal over old times and spoke in German and played rather slowly, I suppose we unconsciously annoyed a party of Frenchmen. At any rate they made unfriendly remarks, and before we had finished our game they marked on the slate that they had engaged the table. Wishing to play again, we were not disposed to give it up to people whose manner was obviously offensive. As our right to continue was disputed, the attendant was called, and it was pointed out that, according to the regulations of the establishment, we were perfectly within our rights in playing a second game. So we played on, and whilst we were joking and laughing about old times they, it seems, thought we were making fun of their discomfiture.
When the game was finished we ordered two steaks, which were served at a table behind the players. We were still laughing over old times when one of the party came up, saying angrily, “I’ve had enough of your laughter; if you don’t stop be sure I’ll make you.”
I told him that I was very sorry that my mood offended him, and if I could not laugh at our own personal jokes I should be sorrier still. It was added that I did not wish to interfere with him, and it was suggested also that he should attend to his own game and leave us alone.
It was evident that he wished to pick a quarrel. Nor would hot words suffice him. Vowing that he must give me something to remember him by, he struck me across the face. Beneath this fresh insult I tried to remain quite calm, telling my assailant that it would be certainly better for him to take himself off and leave me alone. But at such times, when the temper is quick, good advice is not heeded; moreover, he probably thought he had to deal with some one of poor spirit.
Whatever may have been in his mind the facts are plain: finding that I took one blow calmly he struck me another and called me coward. My friend, who had hitherto kept quiet, now attempted to interfere, but I held him down, nearly wrenching his wrist round. The force which was exerted must have given him an idea of the strength that was ready to be used if it were needed, for looking first at his wrist and then at me, he exclaimed in English, “Why don’t you knock the fellow down?”
“So you speak English,” said the Frenchmen, “Why don’t you get up and fight me?” With these words he struck me fiercely on the nose. The blood streamed down my clothes, which were spoilt besides by the gravy that was splashed on them in the disturbance from the dishes. My appearance must have been deplorable, and as I was that morning wearing a new suit, I lost my patience with the man. I walked slowly towards him, and with a quick grip of his neck and knees, I picked him up, knocked his head and knees together, and banged him down in the centre of the table. The table broke through, and he fell to the ground. You can imagine, I daresay, the scene of wreckage and consternation—the smashed table, the man dazed, lying in a heap on the floor, his friends around him open-mouthed with amazement. In the midst of this scene I sat down with my friend and smoked a cigar.