have respected his enterprise so far as to have deprived him of his
sword, and seen that I had at least one guard beside myself. I reined
up my horse and explained this to him, asking him at the same time
whether he saw any breach of honour in my leaving him.

He thought about it, and several times repeated that which the English
say when they mean 'Mon Dieu.'

'You would give me the slip, would you?' said he.

'If you can give no reason against it.'

'The only reason that I can think of,' said the Bart, 'is that I should
instantly cut your head off if you were to attempt it.'

'Two can play at that game, my dear Bart,' said I.

'Then we'll see who can play at it best,' he cried, pulling out his
sword.

I had drawn mine also, but I was quite determined not to hurt this
admirable young man who had been my benefactor.

'Consider,' said I, 'you say that I am your prisoner. I might with equal
reason say that you are mine. We are alone here, and though I have no
doubt that you are an excellent swordsman, you can hardly hope to hold
your own against the best blade in the six light cavalry brigades.'

His answer was a cut at my head. I parried and shore off half of his
white plume. He thrust at my breast. I turned his point and cut away the