CHAPTER XXVIII.
Thy incivility shall not make me fail to do what becomes me; and since thou hast more valour than courtesy, I for thee will hazard that life which thou wouldst take from me .-- Cassandra, "elegantly done into English by Sir Charles Cotterell." About the usual hour for the promenade in the Tuileries, I conveyed myself thither.

I set the chain and ring in full display, rendered still more conspicuous by the dark coloured dress which I always wore.

I had not been in the gardens ten minutes, before I perceived a young Frenchman, scarcely twenty years of age, look with a very peculiar air at my new decorations.

He passed and repassed me, much oftener than the alternations of the walk warranted; and at last, taking off his hat, said in a low tone, that he wished much for the honour of exchanging a few words with me in private.

I saw, at the first glance, that he was a gentleman, and accordingly withdrew with him among the trees, in the more retired part of the garden.
"Permit me," said he, "to inquire how that ring and chain came into your possession ?" "Monsieur," I replied, "you will understand me, when I say, that the honour of another person is implicated in my concealment of that secret." "Sir," said the Frenchman, colouring violently, "I have seen them before--in a word, they belong to me!" I smiled--my young hero fired at this.