LES ANGLAIS POUR RIRE;

OR,

PARISIAN ADVENTURES.*

A PASSAGE IN THE LIFE OF CAPTAIN ANTHONY BLAKE.

CHAPTER II.-CONTINUED.

A SPACE was now cleared for the encounter, while several of the company closed and barricaded the doors, to prevent unseasonable intrusion. La belle Limonadiere, seeing no chance of accommodation, requested permission to retire from the scene of action; but as her exit would necessarily cause an alarm, her request was most politely refused, and she submitted to the necessity of the case with admirable sangfroid, simply holding a handkerchief to her eyes that she might not witness the disagreeable occurrence. The combatants now laid by their coats, boots, and stocks, and, sternly viewing each other, prepared for the mortal arbitrament; while Muggins raged and stormed that he could not assist his unknown friend, who had so generously risked his life in a quarrel not his own. He swore, with a tremendous oath, that he would give every farthing he possessed in the world, if he had but his hair-triggers with him at that moment, when he would undertake to make Louis Dixhuit himself cut a caper.

In the meantime, Blake and his adversary were engaged, and intense anxiety for the result was depicted on every countenance. St. Germain was a perfect swordsman; long and intimately acquainted with all the capabilities of his weapon, in the management of which he had honourably divorced sundry souls from their respective bodies in the course of a long period of service. Bets were, therefore, decidedly in his favour at the commencement, and even the belle Limonadiere heaved a sigh at the anticipated fate of the bel Anglais. It was, however, a fortunate thing for the honour of the British arms on this occasion that Blake's old French master had been a maitre d'escrime or high reputation; and from him, while yet a boy, he had imbibed notions of science which he had subsequently brought to much perfection. His management of the weapon was, therefore, such as to excite mingled surprise and admiration; as, with excellent coolness and precision, he saluted his adversary, placed himself

* Concluded from page 336.

en garde, gave the appel, and parried several deadly thrusts, to the especial delight of Muggins and Tibbins, who were happy to find their cause in so good a hand.

A few passes and parries were thus interchanged without much effect; Blake keeping himself principally on the defensive; a mode of proceeding which appeared to hurt the temper of his adversary, who began, at length, to be seriously annoyed at being so long foiled at his favourite weapon by an Englishman, over whom he had anticipated an easy victory. Combining, therefore, all his force and dexterity for a last effort, he made a feint en quarte at his adversary, and then lunged, with the rapidity of lightning, en contre quartre; the former succeeded so well that St. Germain's real push was unguarded, and his sword, to all appearance, penetrated our hero's neck, the point protruding several inches behind.

A shout of applause from the French, and a groan of horror from the English, immediately ensued; but an instant sufficed to reverse the aspect of affairs. Blake, though deceived by the feint of his adversary, with infinite promptitude evaded his point, which passed through his shirt-collar, and only raised a little the skin of his neck. For another piece of good fortune our hero was indebted to his blanchisseuse; who, having used an extra portion of starch in her last washing, had imparted unusual stiffness to his shirt collar. In this St. Germain's point became entangled, and before he could recover his guard, Blake, à la revanche, plunged his sword into the right arm of his astonished adversary, whose weapon instantly fell from his nerveless grasp upon the ground.

"Huzza!" shouted Muggins, as he seized the fallen sword, and flourished it over his head; "Huzza, for Old England! We have now the whip-hand of you; and, by all the glories of my country, you shall take a drink yourselves out of the chamberorgans, you rascally frog-eaters !"

"I wish to God I had a sword!" exclaimed Beau Tibbins, taking heart of grace at this happy change of affairs; "I'm sure I could spit a dozen of the nefarious, peculating petit maitres."

But a tremendous thundering at the door now announced the arrival of the police, and occasioned such consternation amongst the company, whose nerves were already shaken by the unexpected termination of the combat, that the defences were but feebly attended to. A breach was, therefore, speedily effected; and ten or twelve gens d'armes, rushing into the room, ordered tout le monde to surrender au nom du Roi.

Rout and confusion immediately ensued; to which the previous state of affairs, boisterous as it had been, was a perfect calm. Some attempted to rush out of the door; others dropped from the windows into the piazza; and two or three running behind the

comptoir, hid themselves at the feet of la belle Limonadiere. This heroine had maintained, through all the vicissitudes of the scene, the most admirable self-possession, and though she had evinced a very becoming abattement de cœur at the sight of her countryman's blood, she was now, with amusing consistency, congratulating le bel Anglais on having acquitted himself en homme d'honneur, et parfaitement comme il faut.

The appearance of the gens d'armes, though it acted as a sedative on the courage of others, seemed to inflame the rage of Muggins beyond all bounds. Setting up a shout of defiance, and brandishing his sword, he embraced Blake affectionately, exclaiming,—

"Now, my brave deliverer, you and I will make those soupmaigre rascals scamper before us."

Very much to his astonishment, our hero assured him that, although he had no objection to a tilting match now and then, when it was absolutely necessary, he was not so mad as to oppose the officers of justice; he accordingly surrendered his sword to the brigadier in command, and strongly recommended Muggins to do the same.

This advice, however, Mr. Muggins disdained to follow, on the supposition that they would certainly all be guillotined if they allowed themselves to be made prisoners. He was also, it must be acknowledged, emulous of the fame just acquired by our hero, and determined to do something to distinguish himself. He, therefore, instantly attacked the whole body of the enemy single-handed; but as he was totally unacquainted with the use of the weapon he held, he was quickly disarmed by "a cunning, keen old sworder," with a wrench that nearly dislocated his wrist. He then had recourse to the new-fashioned coffee-cups, the original cause of quarrel, which he broke to atoms on the heads of two of his assailants; and next to the chairs and tables, with which he defended himself for some time, with a strength and courage that astonished his adversaries, and was eminently worthy of a better cause. He was, however, at length overpowered by numbers, and as he was considered the maddest Englishman that had yet appeared in Paris, his hands were very properly tied behind his back.

The conquerors now mustered their prisoners, amounting to a round dozen; but the number was still further increased by Captain Tibbins and a little grocer of the rue St. Denis, who, to the general amusement, were dragged from under the petticoats of la belle Limonadiere, where they had taken refuge on the appearance of the police. The several delinquents having been placed in the centre of the gens d'armes, several of whom had been severely cut by Muggins, they were marched off, amidst wondering crowds, to the depot de la Prefecture; whence, after a

short examination, they were committed to la Grande Force, there to await the issue of their proces verbal.

When the prisoners arrived at their place of destination, the French and English were separated from each other, and put into different apartments, lest they should again come to blows, and disturb the peace of the prison. A surgeon attended to examine St. Germain's wound, which was happily not very severe : having dressed it he did the same kind office for Muggins, who had received several cuts and bruises in the scuffle, but who could with difficulty be prevailed upon to allow the hands of a Frenchman to touch him, even for his own benefit; so much had his natural antipathy to that people been inflamed by the recent adventure.

The cell in which our English captives were disposed of was divided by a massy wall from that of their Gallic opponents. It was a low, arched, spacious room, two stories above the surface of the earth, with one small aperture at the end, which the turnkey facetiously called a window. This was furnished with bars and cross-bars, so numerous as to form no bad substitute for a prison, by the curious manner in which they divided and sub-divided the rays of the sun, when that luminary graciously deigned to visit this abode of sorrow and captivity.

The walls, composed of huge granite blocks, connected together with iron clamps, were totally unprovided with tapestry or ornaments of any description; their naked majesty being unencumbered even with a coating of mortar, which seemed to bear no part in the construction in this simple and unsophisticated edifice. The low-arched roof was decorated, here and there, with certain grotesque delineations of men and women, hatchets, racks, and guillotines, done in chiaro-oscuro, with the flame of a candle, by some of the former occupants, who had a taste for the belle arti. Eating and drinking did not seem to be much tolerated in this portion of the prison; there being neither chair nor table, nor utensil of any sort for the indulgence of these propensities, while the pleasures of the downy couch seemed equally forbidden; the only visible piece of furniture calculated for repose being a low guard-bed, the wakeful occupant of which might dissipate more serious thoughts by searching out the softest plank it contained for a pillow.

When Muggins perceived the sombre tenement he was about