"Come, let us drink our madeira."
So we went out.
Being accustomed to Barbassou-Pasha's ways, I was certainly not surprised at such a trifle as this. The waiter having served us, ten minutes had elapsed, and while we were discussing the irreparable loss of the Xerez and Douro vines, all of a sudden the door opened. It was the lady's cavalier, and he came in raging like a storm.
"Bagasse!" he exclaimed with a furious look, and his hair bristling up like a porcupine. "But you won't get off quite so easily as that, sir! Who ever heard of such a thing? Undressing a defenceless woman like that, and quite a stranger too!! Not to mention that you have spoilt her dress, which looks as if she had been under the pump!"
His words rolled on like a torrent, in the purest Provençal accent. This made my uncle smile, as if at some pleasant reminiscence; and putting on his most engaging expression, he asked the new-comer in a gentle tone of voice:
"What are you to this lady?"
"She is my sister-in-law, sir!" he replied in a fury, his voice swelling louder and louder: "She is my brother's wife, sir; and he's no fool, no more am I, sir!—--Twenty-one years of service, eleven campaigns, and sub-lieutenant of the Customs at Toulon, sir!—--So you shall just let me know how it was my sister-in-law fainted through your fault; and what you meant by taking the liberty of exposing her in a way that no decent man would be guilty of, not even with the consent of her family, nor if she were in mortal danger of her life, sir!"
"And where do you live?" continued my uncle, sipping his madeira, and still fixing upon the fair one's brother-in-law the same charming gaze.
"Hôtel des Bouches-du-Rhone, Rue Pagevin. I am escorting my sister-in-law, and I am responsible for her to her husband."
"My compliments to you, sir! She is a charming young person."