that ever trifled with the feelings, or insulted the honour of a woman, the affront you have offered me will be washed out in Baron von Schmanherstoff's blood. If you are a gentleman, I leave my cause in your hands.' The Colonel bowed, left the room, and sent his challenge. Next morning they met in the Bois de Boulevards: the friends embraced, and then fought.
"But what gave such effect to this duel were the uncommon weapons used by the combatants—broadswords. Colonel Clarendon slightly wounded the Baron, who fell—people did say, according to agreement. He threw himself by the body of his Pylades—called himself his murderer—vowed never again to see the perfidious woman who had caused the quarrel—did not tear his hair, for he rather piqued himself on his curls, but he dishevelled them. He had the Baron carried to his lodgings, and never for a fortnight left his room.
"When 'les deux amis ' appeared in public together, all Paris rang with their romantic attachment, and the Colonel found that his friendship made him as much the fashion as his travels. The renown reached even to the northern country where his father's seat is
