d."

"You are a true knight," said the widow, charmed. "I expected no less of
you. That is agreed; only I must forewarn my little Rendsoul, for form's
sake, understand, for married or not I shall always be to him what I
have been."

"But, madame," said Croustillac, "is it permitted me, will it be
indiscreet to ask you what you are to this hunter of wild beasts, and
what are his relations with you? Or, rather, will you explain to me what
intimacy it is that you feel obliges you to speak to him of your plans?"

"Certainly; and to whom would I make this statement if not to you, my
friend? I will confess to you that Rendsoul is one of my lovers."

Here Croustillac made such a singular grimace and coughed two or three
times in such a manner, that Angela broke into a peal of laughter.

Croustillac, for a moment dumfounded, came to this reflection full of
wisdom: "I am a fool! Nothing is simpler. She had a kind of fancy for
this stupid fellow. The sight of me has decided her to sacrifice him;
unlucky buccaneer that he is! But why the devil does she tell me that at
the end of a year she must find a successor to me?"

"Wait--here comes my Rendsoul," said the widow. "We will tell him our
plans, and we will sup together like three friends."

"It matters not to me," said Croustillac, seeing the buccaneer enter.
"Here is a little woman who wishes to show that she is an original."

CHAPTER XIII

THE SUPPER.

When the buccaneer entered the chevalier hardly knew him. Rend-your-Soul
had put off his hunter's costume; he wore a coat and nether garment of
guinea cloth, thickly embroidered with alternate rays of white and deep
red; his black beard fell upon a shirt of dazzling whiteness, which was
close like a doublet by a row of small coral buttons; a scarf of red
silk, hose of the same color, and shoes of doeskin with large
ribbon-bows, completed a costume most elegant for a buccaneer, and
showing to advantage his tall and robust figure; in the brilliant light
of the candles his complexion seemed less brown than in the daytime; his
black hair, curling naturally, fell carelessly on his shoulders; and
finally, his hands were beautiful, in spite of his rough following as a
hunter.

At the sight of the buccaneer, so transformed and almost unrecognizable,
in spite of the hard character which his thick beard always gave to his
face, the chevalier said to himself, "I should prefer that this person
had at least a civilized ap