The moment he stepped into the room, the Franc-Taupin deposited his old and weather-beaten sword in a corner, embraced his sister and her two children, shook hands cordially with Christian, bowed respectfully to the unknown man, and timidly took his usual place at the family table.
Christian came to the relief of his brother-in-law's embarrassment and said to him jovially:
"We would have felt uneasy at your absence, Josephin, if we did not know that you are of those who, with their swords at their side, defy the world and are able to defend themselves against all assailants."
"Oh, brother, the best sword in the world will not protect one against a surprise; the surprise that I have just experienced has knocked me down. As my surprise tastes strongly of salt, I am dying with thirst—allow me to empty a cup." After his cup was emptied the Franc-Taupin proceeded with a scared look: "By the bowels of St. Quenet, what did I see! I'm quite certain that I am not deceived; I have only one eye left, but it is good for two. By all the devils, I saw him! I saw him distinctly! A singular encounter!"
"Whom did you see, Josephin?"
"I saw, just now, just before nightfall, here, in Paris, Captain Don Ignatius Loyola, a Spanish nobleman—a devil of a fighter and an inveterate lover of amorous adventures—a terrible man."
At the mentioning of Ignatius Loyola's name the guest at Christian's table shuddered, while Christian himself asked the Franc-Taupin:
"But who is that Spanish captain the sight of whom in Paris affects you so greatly?"
"Did you really know the man?" inquired Monsieur John in an accent of deep interest. "Did you know Ignatius Loyola personally?"
"I should think I did! I was his page."