use he knew inevitable. He could
not see the Chamberlain's face, for the night was dark now; the tide,
unseen, was running up on the beach of the bay, lights were burning in
the dwellings of the little town.

"M. Montaiglon," at last said the Chamberlain in a curious voice where
feelings the most deep appeared to strive together, "yon's a tragedy, if
you like."

"_Comment?_" said the Count. He was not prepared for an opening quite
like this.

"Well," said the Chamberlain, "you saw it for yourself; you are not a
mole like Petullo the husband. By God! I would be that brute's death if
he were thirty years younger, and made of anything else than sawdust.
It's a tragedy in there, and look at this burgh!--like the grave but for
the lights of it; rural, plodding, unambitious, ignorant--and the last
place on earth you might seek in for a story so peetiful as that in
there. My heart's wae, wae for that woman; I saw her face was like a
corp when we went in first, though she put a fair front on to us. A
woman in a hundred; a brave woman, few like her, let me tell you, M.
Montaiglon, and heartbroken by that rat she's married on. I could greet
to think on all her trials. You saw she was raised somewhat; you saw I
have some influence in that quarter?"

For his life Count Victor could make no reply, so troubled was his mind
with warring thoughts of Olivia betrayed, perhaps, to a debauchee _sans_
heart and common pot-house decency; of whether in truth this was the
debauchee to such depths as he suggested, or a man in a false position
through the stress of things around him.

The Chamberlain went on as in a meditation. "Poor Kate! poor Kate! We
were bairns together, M. Montaiglon, innocent bairns, and happy, twenty
years syne, and I will not say but what in her maidenhood there was some
warmth between us, so that I know her well. She was compelled by her
relatives to marriage with our parchment friend yonder, and there you
have the start of what has been hell on earth for her. The man has not
the soul of a louse, and as for her, she's the finest gold! You would
see that I was the cause of her swoon?"

"Unhappy creature!" said Montaiglon, beginning to fear he had wronged
this good gentleman.

"You may well say it, M. Montaiglon. It is improper, perhaps, that I
should expose to a stranger the skeleton of that house, but I'm feeling
what happened just now too much to heed a convention." He sighed
profoundly. "I have had influence