The seconds agreed that, no matter what might happen, the combat should last only ten minutes.
At eleven o'clock that night, to Colonel Bridau's amazement, Monsieur Hochon appeared at his rooms just as he was going to bed, escorting Madame Hochon.
"We know what has happened," said the old lady, with her eyes full of tears, "and I have come to entreat you not to leave the house to-morrow morning without saying your prayers.

Lift your soul to God!" "Yes, madame," said Philippe, to whom old Hochon made a sign from behind his wife's back.
"That is not all," said Agathe's godmother.

"I stand in the place of your poor mother, and I divest myself, for you, of a thing which I hold most precious,--here," she went on, holding towards Philippe a tooth, fastened upon a piece of black velvet embroidered in gold, to which she had sewn a pair of green strings.

Having shown it to him, she replaced it in a little bag.

"It is a relic of Sainte Solange, the patron saint of Berry," she said, "I saved it during the Revolution; wear it on your breast to-morrow." "Will it protect me from a sabre-thrust ?" asked Philippe.
"Yes," replied the old lady.
"Then I have no right to wear that accoutrement any more than if it were a cuirass," cried Agathe's son.
"What does he mean ?" said Madame Hochon.
"He says it is not playing fair," answered Hochon.
"Then we will say no more about it," said the old lady, "I shall pray for you." "Well, madame, prayer--and a good point--can do no harm," said Philippe, making a thrust as if to pierce Monsieur Hochon's heart.
The old lady kissed the colonel on his forehead.