'Ha—very good！'he stammered，his voice choking with rage，and he drew his sword，still stammering—for passion makes a man tremble as well as fear.'Draw，'he cried，'here—on the spot—draw and defend yourself！There shall be blood upon these stones！'
The other never stirred.Then，as he saw his adversary on guard and ready to run him through—'Captain P us，'said he，and his voice shook with bitterness，'you are forgetting your assignation.'
The angry fits of such men as P us are like boiling milk of which a drop of cold water will stay the ebullition.These few words brought down the point of the sword which glittered in the captain's hand.
'Captain，'continued the man，'to-morrow—the day after—a month—ten years hence—you will find me ready to cut your throat；but now go to your rendezvous.'
'Why，in truth，'said P us，as if parleying with himself，'a sword and a girl are two charming things with which to have a rendezvous；but I see no reason why I should miss the one for the sake of the other，when I can have them both.'And with that he put up his sword.
'Go to your rendezvous，'repeated the unknown.
'Sir，'said P us with some embarrassment，'thanks for your courtesy.You are right，there will be plenty of time to-morrow for us to mutually make slashes and buttonholes in father Adam's doublet.I am obliged to you for thus permitting me to pass another agreeable quarter of an hour.I was indeed in hopes of laying you in the gutter，and yet arriving in time for the lady，all the more that it is not amiss to make women wait for you a little on such occasions.But you seem to be a fellow of mettle，so it will be safer to put it off till to-morrow.So now I will be off to my rendezvous；it is for seven o'clock，you know.'Here P us scratched his ear.'Ah，corne Dieu！I'd forgotten—I have not a sou to pay the hire of the garret，and the old hag will want to be paid in advance—she will not trust me.'
'Here is the wherewithal to pay.'
P us felt the cold hand of the unknown slip a large coin into his.He could not refrain from accepting the money and grasping the hand.
'God's truth！'he exclaimed，'but you are a good fellow！'
'One condition，'said the man；'prove to me that I was wrong，and that you spoke the truth.Hide me in some corner whence I may see whether this woman be really she whom you named.'
'Oh，'answered P us，'I have not the slightest objection.We shall use the'sainte-Marthe room，'and you can see into it as much as you like from a little den at one side of it.'
'Come，then，'said the shade.
'At your service，'said the captain.'For all I know，you may be Messer Diabolus in person.But let's be good friends to-night；to-morrow I will pay you all my debts—both of the purse and the sword.'
They went forward at a rapid pace，and in a few moments the sound of the river below told them that they were on the Pont Saint-Michel，at that time lined with houses.
'I will get you in first，'said P us to his companion，'and then go and fetch the lady，who was to wait for me near the Petit-Chatelet.'
His companion made no reply.Since they had been walking side by side he had not uttered a word.P us stopped in front of a low door and knocked loudly.A light shone through the crevices of the door.'
'Who's there？'cried a quavering old voice.
'Corps-Dieu！Tête-Dieu！Ventre-Dieu！'answered the captain.
The door opened on the instant，revealing to the newcomers an old woman and an old lamp，both of them trembling.The old woman was bent double，clothed in rags，her palsied head，out of which peered two little blinking eyes，tied up in a kerchief，and wrinkles everywhere—her hands，her face，her neck；her lips were fallen in over her gums，and all round her mouth were tufts of white bristles，giving her the whiskered look of a cat.
The interior of the hovel was no less dilapidated than herself—the plaster dropping from the walls，smoke-blackened beams，a dismantled chimney-piece，cobwebs in every corner；in the middle a tottering company of broken-legged tables and stools，in the cinders a dirty child，and at the back a stair-case，or rather a wooden ladder，leading to a trap-door in the ceiling.
As he entered this den，P us's mysterious companion pulled his cloak up to his eyes.Meanwhile the captain，swearing like a Saracen，hastened to produce his crown piece.
'The'sainte-Marthe room，''he said as he presented it.
The old hag treated him like a lord and shut up the ècu in a drawer.It was the coin P us had received from the man in the cloak.No sooner was her back turned，than the little tousle-headed ragamuffin playing in the cinders stole to the drawer，adroitly abstracted the coin，and replaced it by a withered leaf which he plucked from a fagot.
The old woman signed to the two gentlemen，as she entitled them，to follow her，and ascended the ladder.Arrived on the upper floor she set down her lamp upon a chest，and P us，as one knowing the ways of the house，opened a side door giving access to a small dark space.
'In here，my dear fellow，'said he to his companion.The man in the cloak obeyed without a word.The door closed behind him；he heard P us bolt it，and a moment afterward return down the ladder with the old woman.The light had disappeared.
Chapter 8-The Convenience of Windows Overlooking the River
