is man, his face grew crimson and his eyes gleamed with a lurid
fire.

"Get out of this!" cried he, angrily.

But this was an order that Mascarin had no intention of obeying.

"I assure you that what I have to say is of the utmost importance," said
he.

This speech put the finishing touch to the Count's fury.

"You won't go, won't you?" said he; and in spite of the pain that at the
moment evidently oppressed him, he stepped to the bell, but was arrested
by Mascarin, uttering in a warning voice the words,--

"Take care; if you ring that bell, you will regret it to the last day of
your life."

This was too much for the Count's patience, and letting go the bell
rope, he snatched up a walking cane that was leaning against the
chimneypiece, and made a rush toward his visitor. But Mascarin did not
move or lift his hand in self-defence, contenting himself with saying
calmly,--

"No violence, Count; remember Montlouis."

At this name the Count grew livid, and dropping the cane from his
nerveless hand staggered back a pace or two. Had a spectre suddenly
stood up before him with threatening hand, he could not have been more
horrified.

"Montlouis!" he murmured; "Montlouis!"

But now Mascarin, thoroughly assured of the value of his weapon, had
resumed all his humbleness of demeanor.

"Believe me, my lord," said he, "that I only mentioned this name on
account of the immediate danger that threatens you."

The Count hardly seemed to pay attention to his visitor's words.

"It was not I," continued Mascarin, "who devised the project of bringing
against you an act which was perhaps a mere accident. I am only a
plenipotentiary from persons I despise, to you, for whom I entertain the
very highest respect."

By this time the Count had somewhat recovered himself.

"I really do not understand you," said he, in a tone he vainly
endeavored to render calm. "My sudden emotion is only too easily
explained. I had a sad misfortune. I accidentally shot my secretary, and
the poor young man bore the name you just now mentioned; but the court
acquitted me of all blame in the matter."

The smile upon Mascarin's face was so full of sarcasm that the Count
broke off.

"Those who sent me here," remarked the agent, slowly, "are well
acquainted with the evidence produced in court; but unfortunately, they
know the real facts, which certain honorable gentlemen had sense to
conceal at any risk."

Again the Count started, but Mascarin we