matter of tact and good-breeding I do not yield to princes of the
blood royal. But my civility was quite thrown away. The man was an
absolute brute, abrupt, overbearing, rude. Nothing would conciliate
him. I offered him a cigar (a Borneo of the best brand, at 10s. the
hundred), and he not only refused it, but positively forbade me to
smoke. There were ladies in the carriage, he said (this was the first
reference made to them), and, when declining to be ordered about, I
proposed to refer the question to themselves, he threw himself
violently upon me and assaulted me brutally.

Fortunately the attendant came to my rescue or I should have been
seriously injured. He lifted me into my compartment very kindly, and
acted like an old friend, as indeed he was, for I remembered him as
the Jules l'Echelle with whom I served some time back as an assistant
at the Baths of Bormio.

It was, of course, clear to my mind that my assailant was associated
in some way with the lady, and probably a confederate. I saw that I
must know more about him, with the least possible delay, and as soon
as Jules had left me, promising to return later and talk of old times,
and the changes that had come over us since then, I ventured to look
out and get a glimpse of the other man, I will not call him gentleman
after his conduct.

He was nowhere in sight, but I could hear his voice, several voices,
talking together at the far end. No doubt he had joined his friends in
their compartment, and the moment seemed opportune to visit his. It
was next to mine, and the door stood invitingly open. A few minutes,
seconds even, would be enough to tell me something of his identity,
perhaps all I wanted to.