“If I did kill him, it would be no great loss to mankind, for this baron of yours, who swears by sauerkraut and kirschwasser, gives me rather a poor idea of the company I shall meet to-morrow at your house.”
“Why, he’s a very comme il faut man; he’s rather hot-headed, that’s all.”
“Oh! I have an idea that this baron is brummagem; and furthermore——”
“Mon Dieu! what am I going to do?”
“Don’t be alarmed, Chamoureau, such fellows are hard to kill. Look, what did I say? he’s moving a paw already.”
“Let’s help him to get up.”
“Oh, no! not I. I don’t help ingrates twice over!”
Croque raised his head, opened one eye, looked all about him, and stammered:
“Credié! what a crack! It was magnificent! I’ve been hit before, but never anything like that; it sobered me off in an instant!”
“Well, baron, if you say so, I’ll begin again.”