.

.

though, to be sure, sir, your words are devilish kind-- devilish kind, 'pon my soul!" M.de la Pailletine, with a pleasant smile, held out his sword to him.
"Take it back, monsieur--take back a weapon no man better deserves to wear.

Forget that you are my prisoner: and, if I may beg it, remember rather that you are my friend." The face of the little hunchback flushed crimson.

He hesitated, took back the sword clumsily, hesitated again, then swiftly held out his hand to M.de la Pailletine, with a smile as beautiful as his body was deformed.
"Sir, you have beaten me.