y
in being master of himself that he could be saved. He must have the
coolness of a surgeon during an operation, the glance of a general in a
battle; and the coolness and the glance were not found among the nervous
and agitated.

Could he escape from this danger?

This was the question that he asked himself unceasingly, although he knew
the uselessness of it. What good was it to study the chances for or
against him?

Either he had succeeded in rendering himself unrecognizable or he had
not; but it was done, and now he could do nothing more. He did the best
he could in choosing an hour when the dim evening light put the chances
on his side; for the rest he must trust to Fortune.

All day he studied the sky, because for the success of his plan it must
be neither too bright nor too dark: if it were too bright Madame
Dammauville could see him clearly; if it were too dark the lamps would be
lighted. He remembered that it was by lamplight she had seen him. Until
evening the weather was uncertain, with a sky sometimes sunny, sometimes
cloudy; but at this hour the clouds were driven away by a wind from the
north, and the weather became decidedly cold, with the pink and pale
clearness of the end of March when it still freezes.

On examining himself he had the satisfaction to feel that he was calmer
than in the morning, and that as the moment of attack approached, his
agitation decreased; decision, firmness, and coolness came to him; he
felt master of his will, and capable of obeying it.

At six o'clock precisely he rang at Balzajette's door, and they started
immediately for the Rue Sainte-Anne. Happy to have a complaisant
listener, Balzajette did all the talking, so that Saniel had only to
reply "yes" or "no" from time to time, and of course it was not of Madame
Dammauville that he spoke, but other matters--of a first representation
on the previous evening at the Opera Comique; of politics; of the next
salon.

At exactly a quarter past six they reached the house in the Rue
Sainte-Anne, where Saniel had not been since Caffies death. On passing
the old concierge's lodge he felt satisfied with himself; his heart did
not beat too quickly, his ideas were firm and clear. Should danger
arrive, he felt assured of mastery over himself, without excitement, as
without brutality.

Balzajette rang the bell, and the door was opened by a maid, who was,
evidently, placed in the vestibule to await their arrival. Balzajette
entered fir