"
Philippe briefly explained his uncle's position.
"Gentlemen," he remarked, in conclusion, "you see there are no two
ways of saving him: either Colonel Bridau must kill Captain Gilet, or
Captain Gilet must kill Colonel Bridau. We celebrate the Emperor's
coronation on the day after to-morrow; I rely upon you to arrange the
seats at the banquet so that I shall sit opposite to Gilet. You will
do me the honor, I hope, of being my seconds."
"We will appoint you to preside, and sit ourselves on either side of
you. Max, as vice-president, will of course sit opposite," said
Mignonnet.
"Oh! the scoundrel will have Potel and Renard with him," said
Carpentier. "In spite of all that Issoudun now knows and says of his
midnight maraudings, those two worthy officers, who have already been
his seconds, remain faithful to him."
"You see how it all maps out, uncle," said Philippe. "Therefore, sign
no paper before the third of December; the next day you shall be free,
happy, and beloved by Flore, without having to coax for it."
"You don't know him, Philippe," said the terrified old man. "Maxence
has killed nine men in duels."
"Yes; but ninety thousand francs a year didn't depend on it," answered
Philippe.
"A bad conscience shakes the hand," remarked Mignonnet sententiously.
"In a few days from now," resumed Philippe, "you and the Rabouilleuse
will be living together as sweet as honey,--that is, after she gets
through mourning.
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