or closed upon the steward, M. d'Harville, overcome with the
mental agony he had repressed thus far, threw himself into an armchair,
leaned his elbows on the desk before which he sat, and covering his face
with his hands, for the first time since receiving the fatal _billet_,
gave vent to a flood of hot, burning tears.

"Cruel mockery of fate!" cried he, at length, "to have made me rich, but
to have given me only shame and dishonour to place within the gilded
frame: the perjury of Clemence, the disgrace which will descend upon my
innocent child. Can I suffer this? Or shall I for the sake of her
unoffending offspring spare the guilty mother from the opprobrium of an
exposure?" Then rising suddenly from his seat, with sparkling eyes and
clenched teeth he cried, in a deep, determined voice, "No, no! Blood,
blood! The fearful protection from laughter and derision. Ah, full well
I can now comprehend her coldness, her antipathy, wretched, wretched
woman!" Then, stopping all at once, as though melted by some tender
recollection, he resumed, in a hoarse tone, "Aversion! Alas! too well I
know its cause. I inspire her with loathing, with disgust!" Then, after
a lengthened silence, he cried, in a voice broken by sighs, "Yet, was it
my fault or my misfortune? Should she have wronged me thus for a
calamity beyond my power to avert? Surely I am a more fitting object for
her pity than scorn and hatred." Again rekindling into his excited
feelings, he reiterated, "Nothing but blood--the blood of both--can wash
out this guilty stain! Doubtless he, the favoured lover, has been
informed why she flies her husband's arms."

This latter thought redoubled the fury of the marquis. He elevated his
tightly compressed hands towards heaven, as though invoking its
vengeance; then, passing his burning fingers over his eyes as he
recollected the necessity that existed for concealing his emotion from
the servants of his establishment, he returned to his sleeping-apartment
with an appearance of perfect tranquillity. There he found Joseph.

"Well, in what state are the guns?"

"In perfect order. Please to examine them, my lord."

"I came for the purpose of so doing. Has your lady yet rung?"

"I do not know, my lord."

"Then inquire."

Directly the servant had quitted the room, M. d'Harville hastily took
from the gun-case a small powder-flask, some balls and caps; then,
locking the case, put the key in his pocket. Then going to the stand of
arms,