omise. Now, though, he has created eternal remorse and regret. He has
revived in my heart a flame which was nearly out--yet has nothing but
indifference and contempt for me. He forgets, though, how dangerous it
is to offend an Italian woman. He has forgotten what he read in my
letter to his friend: 'Had I been to the Count but an ordinary woman,
the charms of whom would have fixed him for a time, but whom he would
repudiate as he has his other conquests, _I would have killed him_.'"

VII.--DOCTOR MATHEUS.

At the time we write of, there was in _la rue Babylonne_, near the
faubourg Saint-Germain, an old house, the owner of which was really to
be pitied. In consequence of a kind of fate which overhung this house,
no room had been occupied for many years, and the persons who went
thither in search of room, terrified at their sombre air, heard,
subsequently, such stories of what had happened within its walls, took
good care not to take up their abode there, even if they had given the
_denier-a-Dieu_, an important matter in Paris, and a kind of bargain
between the lodger and landlord, made in the presence of the porter, who
is the notary, witness, and depository of the contract. If, however, any
quiet family, led astray by the retirement of the house, established
themselves in it, the servants soon heard such stories from their
neighbors in No. 15, that they lived in perpetual terror--madame grew
pale, and as often as monsieur sang louder than usual, or came in
without noise, had nervous attacks. The unfortunate lodgers, menaced by
jaundice or some other bilious complaint, in consequence of the repeated
emotions to which they were subjected, were anxious always to go, even
under the penalty of indemnifying the landlord. The latter saw himself
again forced to submit to the reign of solitude in the old halls, which
were gilt and painted _a la Louis XV._, and saw the mildew and dust
again rest on the windows and cells, as soon as the fires ceased to
burn; not even the presence of a trunk, belonging to a chance sojourner
in this desert isle, relieved the landlord from apprehensions of the
recurrence of his old calamity. The Crusoe of this desert island had
declared that he had rather pay the lodging three, six, or nine-fold,
than live in such proximity with the miserable ideas which the house
suggested. True, the Crusoe was an Englishman, predisposed to the
_spleen_, and the sadness of his abode would soon have led him to
aug