leasures of an independent
code of morals without suffering cruelly afterward.

A thousand old prejudices, which they think long since buried, start
up suddenly in their consciences; and these revived scruples are nearly
fatal to them.

Camors rushed toward Paris at the greatest speed of his thoroughbred,
Fitz-Aymon, awakening along the route, by his elegance and style,
sentiments of envy which would have changed to pity were the wounds of
the heart visible. Bitter weariness, disgust of life and disgust for
himself, were no new sensations to this young man; but he never had
experienced them in such poignant intensity as at this cursed hour,
when flying from the dishonored hearth of the friend of his boyhood. No
action of his life had ever thrown such a flood of light on the depths
of his infamy in doing such gross outrage to the friend of his
purer days, to the dear confidant of the generous thoughts and proud
aspirations of his youth. He knew he had trampled all these under foot.
Like Macbeth, he had not only murdered one asleep, but had murdered
sleep itself.

His reflections became insupportable. He thought successively of
becoming a monk, of enlisting as a soldier, and of getting drunk--ere he
reached the corner of the Rue Royale and the Boulevard. Chance favored
his last design, for as he alighted in front of his club, he found
himself face to face with a pale young man, who smiled as he extended
his hand. Camors recognized the Prince d'Errol.

"The deuce! You here, my Prince! I thought you in Cairo."

"I arrived only this morning."

"Ah, then you are better?--Your chest?"

"So--so."

"Bah! you look perfectly well. And isn't Cairo a strange place?"

"Rather; but I really believe Providence has sent you to me."

"You really think so, my Prince? But why?"

"Because--pshaw! I'll tell you by-and-bye; but first I want to hear all
about your quarrel."

"What quarrel?"

"Your duel for Sarah."

"That is to say, against Sarah!"

"Well, tell me all that passed; I heard of it only vaguely while
abroad."

"Well, I only strove to do a good action, and, according to custom, I
was punished for it. I heard it said that that little imbecile La Brede
borrowed money from his little sister to lavish it upon that Sarah.
This was so unnatural that you may believe it first disgusted, and then
irritated me. One day at the club I could not resist saying, 'You are an
ass, La Bride, to ruin yourself--worse than that, to