"No," replied Velletri, laughing; "you must, under all circumstances, get rid of this gallant. For your consolation, I can tell you it is not a difficult job."
"Then you know the man? I sent my servant after him, but could not find out anything further than that he visits the Cafe Valois every day at this hour, and that is the reason I went there to-day."
"Without having been able to accomplish your object. My dear vicomte, I place my experience at your service. The man is no rival, cannot be any; and if the young countess has built any air-castles in her romantic brain, I can give you the means to crumble them to pieces."
"And the means?"
"Simply tell her the name of her admirer."
"Yes; but he didn't mention his name to me."
"That does not surprise me. He was formerly an acrobat, and his name is Fanfaro."
The vicomte laughed boisterously. Fanfaro, a former acrobat, ran after young, noble ladies—it was too comical!
"So that is why the young man did not wish to fight me," he finally cried; "it doesn't surprise me any more, and is cowardly too."
The Italian, who had witnessed the scene in which Fanfaro had refused to cross weapons with a Talizac, laughed maliciously.