"My good man, your sword lifts you above your degree, even," and here she glanced at Blaise, and continued in a tone of irrepressible contempt, "as the tameness of some gentlemen lowers them beneath theirs."
Blaise, from whose nature tameness was the attribute farthest removed, looked first at the lady, in helpless bewilderment, then at me, with mute reproach for having placed him in his ridiculous position, and lastly at the maid, who regarded him with open derision. To be laughed at by this piquant creature, to whose charms he had been so speedily susceptible, was the crowning misery. His expression of woe was such that I could not easily retain my own serious and respectful countenance.
Having to make some answer to the lady, I said:
"An opportunity to defend so fair a lady would elevate the most ignoble."
The lady, not being accustomed to exchanging compliments with a man-servant, went to her maid and talked with her in whispers, the two both gazing at Blaise with expressions of mirth.
Blaise strode to my side with an awkwardness quite new to him. His face was in a violent perspiration.
"The devil!" he whispered. "How they laugh at me! Won't you explain?"
"Impossible!"
"I object to being taken for a calf," said Blaise, ready to burst with anger. Then, suddenly reaching the limit of his endurance, he faced the lady and blurted out:
"Mademoiselle, I would have run your pursuer through quickly enough, but
I dared not rob my master—"