_Theatre Francais_ one Tuesday, and
when he noticed how pretty, how fair, how desirable she was, and looking
so melancholy, with all the appearance of an unhappy soul that regrets
something, his determination grew weaker, and he delayed his departure
from week to week, and waited, without knowing why, until, at last, worn
out with the struggle, watching her wherever she went, more in love with
her than he had ever been before, he wrote her long, mad, ardent letters
in which his passion overflowed like a stream of lava.

He altered his handwriting, as he remembered her restless brain and her
many whims. He sent her the flowers which he knew she liked best, and
told her that she was his life, that he was dying of waiting for her, of
longing for her, for her, his idol.

At last, very much puzzled and surprised, guessing--who knows?--from the
instinctive beating of her heart, and her general emotion, that it must
be he this time, he whose soul she had tortured with such cold cruelty,
and knowing that she could make amends for the past and bring back their
former love, she replied to him, and granted him the meeting that he
asked for. She fell into his arms, and they both sobbed with joy and
ecstasy. Their kisses were those which lips only give when they have
lost each other and found each other again at last, when they meet and
exhaust themselves in each other's looks, thirsting for tenderness, love
and enjoyment.

* * * * *

Last week Count de Baudemont carried off Marie-Anne quietly and coolly,
just like one resumes possession of one's house on returning from a
journey, and drives out the intruders. And when _Maitre_ Garrulier was
told of this unheard-of scandal, he rubbed his hands--his long, delicate
hands of a sensual prelate--and exclaimed:

"That is absolutely logical, and I should like to be in their place."

THE MAN WITH THE DOGS

His wife, even when talking to him, always called him Monsieur Bistaud,
but in all the country round, within a radius of ten leagues in France
and Belgium, he was known as _cet homme aux chiens_[5]. It was not a
very valuable reputation, however, and "That man with the dogs" became a
sort of pariah.

[Footnote 5: That man with the dogs.]

In Thierache they are not very fond of the custom-house officers, for
everybody, high or low, profits by smuggling; thanks to which many
articles, and especially coffee, gunpowder and tobacco are to be had