as soon as he can lay hands on him.  At this very moment Leander himself returns, and Scapin points him out to his master as he approaches, adding that he will keep a sharp look-out for the police while Matamore is giving him his quietus.  But the cowardly braggadocio would fain withdraw, now that the enemy is actually in sight, and is only restrained from flight by his servant, who pushes him forward directly in Leander’s path.

Seeing that escape is impossible, Matamore settles his hat firmly on his head, twists the long ends of his mustache, puts his hand on the hilt of his big sword, and advances threateningly towards Leander—­but it is pure bravado, for his teeth are chattering with fear, and his long, thin legs waver and tremble under him visibly, like reeds shaken by the wind.  Only one hope remains to him—­that of intimidating Leander by loud threats and ferocious gestures, if, by a happy chance, he be a fellow of his own kidney.  So in a terrible voice he addresses him thus:  “Sir, do you know that I am the great Captain Matamore of the celebrated house of Cuerno de Cornazan, and allied to the no less illustrious family of Escobombardon de la Papirontonda?  I am a descendant, on my mother’s side, of the famous Antacus, the ancient hero and giant.”

“Well, you may be a descendant of the man in the moon for all that I care,” answers Leander, with a disdainful shrug of the shoulders; “what the devil have I to do with such absurd stuff and nonsense?”

“Blood and bones! thunder and Mars!  You see, sir, you shall see, and that very quickly, what you have to do with it, unless you take yourself off in the twinkling of an eye.  I will give you one minute’s grace, for your extreme youth touches me, so take to your heels and fly while there is yet time.  Observe me well!  I am the terror of the whole world—­my path is marked with graves—­my own shadow scarcely dares to follow me into the perils I delight in.  If I enter a besieged city, it is by the breach—­when I quit it I pass under a triumphal arch; if I cross a river, it is one of blood, and the bridge is made of the bodies of my adversaries.  I can toss a knight and his horse, both, weighted with armour, high into the air.  I can snap elephants’ bones, as you would pipe-stems.  When great Mars himself chances to meet me on the battle-field he turns and flees, dreading the weight of my arm.  My prowess is so well known, and the terror I inspire so great, that no one dares to meet me face to face, and I never see anything but the backs of my retreating foes.”

“Is it so? well, you shall meet me face to face.  Take that, and see how you like it!” says Leander laughing merrily, and giving him a sounding slap on one cheek which almost knocks the poor devil over, and is instantly followed by an equally hearty one on the other, to restore his equilibrium.