with an intonation so imperious, and with
such an agonized manner, that De Chemerant bowed without persisting
further. He went into a room the door of which the chevalier had opened,
and which he immediately closed upon him.

Crossing the drawing room with quick steps, the adventurer entered
suddenly into the room where the mulatto and Blue Beard were.

"Madame," said the Gascon with sorrowful indignation, "your conduct is
abominable."

The mulatto, who was extended on the divan, arose quickly; he was about
to speak; Angela with a glance begged him to do nothing. As much as
Monmouth had generously desired to prevent the sacrifice of the
chevalier when he believed this sacrifice disinterested, he was as much
resolved not to make himself known when he believed the adventurer
capable of an unworthy betrayal.

"Sir," said Angela coldly, to the Gascon, "the French emissary may still
overhear us; let us go into another room."

She opened the door of Monmouth's own room, and entered, followed by the
filibuster and Croustillac. The door once closed, the adventurer cried:
"I repeat that you have shamefully abused my trust in you."

"I demand an explanation of your disloyal conduct," said Angela proudly.
"Explain yourself at once."

During this scene, Monmouth, gravely preoccupied, walked up and down the
room with his arms folded, his eyes fixed on the carpet.

"You desire that I explain myself, madame? Oh, that will not take long!
First know that, right or wrong, I love you," cried Croustillac, in a
burst of tenderness and anger.

"That is to say, that you have boasted to your fellow-travelers that you
would marry the rich widow of Devil's Cliff?"

"So be it, madame; on board the Unicorn my language was impertinent, my
pretensions absurd, madame; covetous, I admit. But when I spoke thus,
when I thought thus, I had not seen you."

"The sight of me, sir, has not inspired you with ideas much more
honorable," said Angela severely, still convinced that Croustillac
wished to cruelly abuse the position in which he found himself.

"Hear me, madame; I love you truly; that is to say, that I was capable
of anything to prove to you my love, absurd and stupid as it appears to
you. Yes, I loved you, because my heart told me I did well to love you;
because I felt myself better for loving you. You may laugh at this love;
I was sufficiently repaid by the happiness it gave me. When you have
said, 'Sir, I mock at you, I use you for a