The priest ran to him and felt of his arms and breast, to make sure that he had actually received no injury. "Aren't you hurt, then, in the least?" he inquired.
"Of course not, good father," replied the other.
"But did you slay your opponent?"
"Oh, I scratched him a little on the cheek."
"And is he not in great pain?" asked the kind-hearted pastor, with much concern.
"Not at all; he is as pleased over his wound as a boy with a new jacket."
But the minister of the gospel found the matter no subject for light treatment. "How, pray, can you gentlemen indulge in such unchristian practices?" he asked, earnestly. "What motive can you possibly have?"
"My dear sir," returned the other, "have you ever heard the story of the two officers who fought a duel because one of them maintained that he had picked sardines from a tree in Italy, and the other refused to believe him? So they fought it out, and it was only after the first had received a slash across the face that he remembered,—'Ah, yes, quite right; they were not sardines, after all, but capers.' So here you may imagine some such cause as that."
"And you fought for such a trifle!" exclaimed the pastor.
"Yes, something of the sort, if I remember rightly. You see, I have just joined the regiment after serving in the life-guard, and I have been promoted captain; so I must fight with a dozen comrades in succession, until they either cut me to pieces or learn to endure my presence among them. That is the custom. But let us discuss your affairs now. You said you were here on urgent business; pray tell me its nature."