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Updated: May 31, 2025
At noon, the academy being empty, M. des Amis called Andre-Louis to one of the occasional lessons which he still received. And for the first time in all his experience with Andre-Louis, M. des Amis received from him a full hit in the course of the first bout. He laughed, well pleased, like the generous fellow he was. "Aha! You are improving very fast, my friend."
The position, you see, had its humiliations. But, if Andre-Louis would hope to dine, he must begin by eating his pride as an hors d'oeuvre. "And so," he said, controlling a grimace, "the robe yields not only to the sword, but to the broom as well. Be it so. I stay." It is characteristic of him that, having made that choice, he should have thrown himself into the work with enthusiasm.
He thrust through the crowd, and came suddenly face to face with a tall man beautifully dressed, whose handsome countenance was sternly set, whose great sombre eyes mouldered as if with suppressed anger. Thus face to face, each looking into the eyes of the other, they stood for a long moment, the jostling crowd streaming past them, unheeded. Then Andre-Louis laughed.
Without bestowing a thought upon what he was doing, his wrist and arm and knees had automatically performed their work, like the accurate fighting engine into which constant practice for a year and more had combined them. Not until Sunday was Andre-Louis able to satisfy a wish which the impatience of the intervening days had converted into a yearning.
This time Andre-Louis did not laugh: He just smiled into the dilating eyes of M. de La Tour d'Azyr, and made no shift to use his advantage. "Come, come, monsieur!" he bade him sharply. "Am I to run my blade through an uncovered man?" Deliberately he fell back, whilst his shaken opponent recovered himself at last. M. d'Ormesson released the breath which horror had for a moment caught.
The cheek that lay against Andre-Louis's was leaden-hued, the half-open eyes were glazed, and there was a little froth of blood upon the vacuously parted lips. Half blinded by tears Andre-Louis stumbled after them when they bore the body into the inn.
Dressed with more than ordinary care, his head elegantly coiffed by one of those hairdressers to the nobility of whom so many were being thrown out of employment by the stream of emigration which was now flowing freely Andre-Louis mounted his hired carriage, and drove out to Meudon. The house of the younger Kercadiou no more resembled that of the head of the family than did his person.
It was then that affairs began to become interesting, then that Andre-Louis began seriously to doubt the soundness of the views he had held hitherto.
I have experience of their kind." And without waiting for Pantaloon's consent, Andre-Louis stepped forward to meet the advancing men of the marechaussee. He had realized that here boldness alone could save him.
"Why not? He is able enough!" "Overwhelmed again," interjected Polichinelle. "Play Scaramouche with that figure?" Binet heaved himself up to point a denunciatory finger at Polichinelle's sturdy, thick-set shortness. "For lack of a better," said Andre-Louis. "Overwhelmed more than ever." Polichinelle's bow was superb this time. "Faith, I think I'll take the air to cool me after so much blushing."
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