aste, a
faithful and secret instrument of Rodin, and attached by him to the
Company. But Faringhea, whose tact was amazing, did not act so lightly;
he never spoke to the prince of Mdlle. de Cardoville, and waited
unobtrusively for the confidential communications into which Djalma was
sometimes hurried by his excessive joy. A few days after the interview
last described between Adrienne and Djalma, and on the morrow of the day
when Rodin, certain of the success of Ninny Moulin's mission to Sainte
Colombe, had himself put a letter in the post to the address of Agricola
Baudoin, the half-caste, who for some time had appeared oppressed with a
violent grief, seemed to get so much worse, that the prince, struck with
the desponding air of the man, asked him kindly and repeatedly the cause
of his sorrow. But Faringhea, while he gratefully thanked the prince for
the interest he took in him, maintained the most absolute silence and
reserve on the subject of his grief.

These preliminaries will enable the reader to understand the following
scene, which took place about noon in the house in the Rue de Clichy
occupied by the Hindoo. Contrary to his habit, Djalma had not passed that
morning with Adrienne. He had been informed the evening before, by the
young lady, that she must ask of him the sacrifice of this whole day, to
take the necessary measures to make their marriage sacred and acceptable
in the eyes of the world, and yet free from the restrictions which she
and Djalma disapproved. As for the means to be employed by Mdlle. de
Cardoville to attain this end, and the name of the pure and honorable
person who was to consecrate their union, these were secrets which, not
belonging exclusively to the young lady, could not yet be communicated to
Djalma. To the Indian, so long accustomed to devote every instant to
Adrienne, this day seemed interminable. By turns a prey to the most
burning agitation, and to a kind of stupor, in which he plunged himself
to escape from the thoughts that caused his tortures, Djalma lay
stretched upon a divan, with his face buried in his hands, as if to shut
out the view of a too enchanting vision. Suddenly, without knocking at
the door, as usual, Faringhea entered the prince's apartment.

At the noise the half-caste made in entering Djalma started, raised his
head, and looked round him with surprise; but, on seeing the pale
agitated countenance of the slave, he rose hastily, and advancing towards
him, excl