“Silence, Victor!” cried Florac, seizing his arm, and drawing him away. “You know me, and that I am neither one or the other. Believe my word, that my Lord Kew wants neither courage nor wit!”
“Will you be my witness, Florac?” continues the other.
“To take him your excuses? yes. It is you who have insulted—”
“Yes, parbleu, I have insulted!” says the Gascon.
“—A man who never willingly offended soul alive. A man full of heart: the most frank: the most loyal. I have seen him put to the proof, and believe me he is all I say.”
“Eh! so much the better for me!” cried the Southron. “I shall have the honour of meeting a gallant man: and there will be two on the field.”
“They are making a tool of you, my poor Gascon,” said M. de Florac, who saw Madame d’Ivry’s eyes watching the couple. She presently took the arm of the noble Count de Punter, and went for fresh air into the adjoining apartment, where play was going on as usual; and Lord Kew and his friend Lord Rooster were pacing the room apart from the gamblers.
My Lord Rooster, at something which Kew said, looked puzzled, and said, “Pooh, stuff, damned little Frenchman! Confounded nonsense!”
“I was searching you, milor!” said Madame d’Ivry, in a most winning tone, tripping behind him with her noiseless little feet. “Allow me a little word. Your arm! You used to give it me once, mon filleul! I hope you think nothing of the rudeness of M. de Castillonnes; he is a foolish Gascon: he must have been too often to the buffet this evening.”
Lord Kew said, No, indeed, he thought nothing of de Castillonnes’ rudeness.