e world only
to be cuckolds, but who know better than most how to lay a snare, and to
play a nasty trick--that when I went to Venice, I consented to let him
have my room.

"I will leave you to guess whether they made up for lost time, although,
after all, it is no business of yours. My journey, however, which was
only to have lasted a few weeks--just long enough to benefit by the
change of air, to rid my brain of the image of my last mistress, and
perhaps to find another among that strange mixture of society which one
meets there, a medley of American, Slav, Viennese and Italian women, who
instill a little artificial life into that old city, which is asleep
amidst the melancholy silence of the lagoons--was prolonged, and Stanis
was as much at home in my rooms as he was in his own.

"Madame Piquignolles, the retired canteen-keeper, took great interest in
this adventure, watched over their little love affair, and, as she used
to say, she was on guard as soon as they arrived one after the other,
the marchioness covered with a thick veil, and slipping in as quickly as
possible, always uneasy, and afraid that Monsieur de Frejus might be
following her, and Stanis with the assured and satisfied look of an
amorous husband, who is going to meet his little wife after having been
away from home for a few days.

"Well, one day during one of those calm moments when his beloved one,
fresh from her bath, and impregnated with the coolness of the water, was
pressing close to her lover, reclining in his arms, and smiling at him
with half closed eyes, at one of those moments when people do not speak,
but continue their dream, the sentinel, without even asking leave,
suddenly burst into the room, for worthy Madame Piquignolles was in a
terrible fright.

"A few minutes before, a well-dressed gentleman, followed by two others
of seedy appearance, but who looked very strong, and fit to knock
anybody down, had questioned her in a rough manner, and cross-questioned
her, and tried to turn her inside out, as she said, asking her whether
Monsieur de Frejus lived on the first floor, without giving her any
explanation, and when she declared that there was nobody occupying the
apartments then, as her lodger was not in France, Monsieur de
Frejus--for it could certainly be nobody but he--had burst out into an
evil laugh, and said: 'Very well; I shall go and fetch the Police
Commissary of the district, and he will make you let us in!'

"And as qui