"Then we will do without swords."

"But what will you fight with?"

The child pointed to the compass with which the young mathematician
had made his equations.

"Oh! my child," said Bonaparte, "a compass makes a very bad wound."

"So much the better," replied Louis; "I can kill him."

"But suppose he kills you?"

"I'd rather that than bear his blow."

Bonaparte made no further objections; he loved courage, instinctively,
and his young comrade's pleased him.

"Well, so be it!" he replied; "I will tell Valence that you wish
to fight him, but not till to-morrow."

"Why to-morrow?"

"You will have the night to reflect."

"And from now till to-morrow," replied the child, "Valence will
think me a coward." Then shaking his head, "It is too long till
to-morrow." And he walked away.

"Where are you going?" Bonaparte asked him.