My antagonist led me across the rue St. Honore, to a place which I
suppose you know, called the Elysian Fields. It began to be late, and I
am told there is danger in passing the precincts of the guard. I
apprehended a conspiracy, and at last refused to proceed any farther.
Finding me obstinate he drew, but said we should be interrupted.

He was no false prophet; for we had not made half a dozen passes before
a youth, whom from his boots and appearance I supposed to be English,
came running and vociferating--Forbear! I was not quite certain that
his appearance might not be artifice; I therefore accosted him in
English, in which language he very readily replied. He was quite a
sturdy, dauntless gentleman; for, though our swords were drawn, and
both of us sufficiently angry, he resolutely placed himself between us,
declaring we should not fight; and that, if we went farther, he would
follow.

Nothing was to be done; and I now began to suspect the person, with
whom I had this ridiculous quarrel, to be really a gentleman. I gave
him my address, and he readily returned his; after which we parted, he
singing a French song, and I cursing the insolence of the English
youth, who seemed to disregard my anger, and to be happy that he had
prevented the spilling of blood.

Remember that all this happened on the preceding evening, after I had
written the greatest part of my last long letter. The next morning I
finished it, and received a note from Sir Arthur St. Ives, as I
mentioned.

As soon as I could get dressed, I hastened away; and, arriving at the