sions, so admired and envied by the passing
crowd. He thought that the baroness would be crushed--that she would
fall on her knees before her husband. What a mistake! The tone of
her voice told him that, instead of yielding, she was only bent on
retaliation.

"Does your son-in-law do anything worse than you?" she exclaimed. "How
dare you censure him--you who drag your name through all the gambling
dens of Europe?"

"Wretch!" interrupted the baron, "wretch!" But quickly mastering
himself, he remarked: "Yes, it's true that I gamble. People say, 'That
great Baron Trigault is never without cards in his hands!' But you know
very well that I really hold gambling in horror--that I loathe it. But
when I play, I sometimes forget--for I must forget. I tried drink, but
it wouldn't drown thought, so I had recourse to cards; and when the
stakes are large, and my fortune is imperilled, I sometimes lose
consciousness of my misery!"

The baroness gave vent to a cold, sneering laugh, and, in a tone of
mocking commiseration, she said: "Poor baron! It is no doubt in the hope
of forgetting your sorrows that you spend all your time--when you are
not gambling--with a woman named Lia d'Argeles. She's rather pretty. I
have seen her several times in the Bois----"

"Be silent!" exclaimed the baron, "be silent! Don't insult an
unfortunate woman who is a thousand times better than yourself." And,
feeling that he could endure no more--that he could no longer restrain
his passion, he cried: "Out of my sight! Go! or I sha'n't be responsible
for my acts!"

Pascal heard a chair move, the floor creak, and a moment afterward a
lady passed quickly through the smoking-room. How was it that she did
not perceive him? No doubt, because she was greatly agitated, in spite
of her bravado. And, besides, he was standing a little back in the
shade. But he saw her, and his brain reeled. "Good Lord! what a
likeness!" he murmured.

III.

It was as if he had seen an apparition, and he was vainly striving to
drive away a terrible, mysterious fear, when a heavy footfall made
the floor of the dining-room creak anew. The noise restored him to
consciousness of his position. "It is the baron!" he thought; "he is
coming this way! If he finds me here I am lost; he will never consent to
help me. A man would never forgive another man for hearing what I have
just heard."

Why should he not try to make his escape? The card, bearing the name
of Maumejan, would b