"Yes, yes!" shouted Jean Ficelle; "he insulted Sans-Cravate, he insulted Cagnoux, he insulted all of us, by breaking that glass. He must have a licking! we must give him a lesson! that will teach him to behave better in a wine shop."
And Monsieur Laboussole, still lapping the brandy on the floor, added in a voice half stifled by his attitude:
"We must beat him; or else make him pay for twice the quantity of brandy for the company."
Thereupon Bastringuette stepped into the midst of the men who surrounded the young messenger, and, planting herself in front of him, cried:
"Is the whole lot of you going to take sides against him? That's brave of you—a dozen against one! I tell you not to lay a finger on him, or I'll scratch all your eyes out!"
But Sans-Cravate pushed the girl aside with a turn of his wrist.
"He ain't going to fight any twelve men, but just me alone," he said.—"Come on, are you ready?"
"No," replied Paul, who had remained perfectly calm amid all the uproar, "no, I won't fight with you."
"Then you're a coward!"
"I am not a coward. Let any other man come forward, and I'll agree to fight with him; but not with you, Sans-Cravate, for you're out of your head now, and to-morrow you'll be sorry that you struck your friend."