mething," said Newman, "besides, it is my duty to
say it. It's a notification--a warning."

"Your duty?" said old Madame de Bellegarde, her thin lips curving like
scorched paper. "That is your affair, not ours."

Madame Urbain meanwhile had seized her little girl by the hand, with a
gesture of surprise and impatience which struck Newman, intent as he was
upon his own words, with its dramatic effectiveness. "If Mr. Newman is
going to make a scene in public," she exclaimed, "I will take my poor
child out of the melee. She is too young to see such naughtiness!" and
she instantly resumed her walk.

"You had much better listen to me," Newman went on. "Whether you do or
not, things will be disagreeable for you; but at any rate you will be
prepared."

"We have already heard something of your threats," said the marquis,
"and you know what we think of them."

"You think a good deal more than you admit. A moment," Newman added in
reply to an exclamation of the old lady. "I remember perfectly that we
are in a public place, and you see I am very quiet. I am not going to
tell your secret to the passers-by; I shall keep it, to begin with, for
certain picked listeners. Any one who observes us will think that we are
having a friendly chat, and that I am complimenting you, madam, on your
venerable virtues."

The marquis gave three short sharp raps on the ground with his stick. "I
demand of you to step out of our path!" he hissed.

Newman instantly complied, and M. de Bellegarde stepped forward with his
mother. Then Newman said, "Half an hour hence Madame de Bellegarde will
regret that she didn't learn exactly what I mean."

The marquise had taken a few steps, but at these words she paused,
looking at Newman with eyes like two scintillating globules of ice. "You
are like a peddler with something to sell," she said, with a little cold
laugh which only partially concealed the tremor in her voice.

"Oh, no, not to sell," Newman rejoined; "I give it to you for nothing."
And he approached nearer to her, looking her straight in the eyes. "You
killed your husband," he said, almost in a whisper. "That is, you tried
once and failed, and then, without trying, you succeeded."

Madame de Bellegarde closed her eyes and gave a little cough, which, as
a piece of dissimulation, struck Newman as really heroic. "Dear mother,"
said the marquis, "does this stuff amuse you so much?"

"The rest is more amusing," said Newman. "You had better not lo