ded arms on the back.

"Indeed."

"You are cold-blooded, Monsieur--'tis a grave fault. You miss half the
pleasures of life--but I think you would like to know whom I mean.
Confess, Monsieur! But there, I see you know--who else could it be but
Madame de St. Andre?" and the insolent smile broke into a still more
insolent laugh.

"We will leave Madame de St. Andre's name out of this conversation,
Monsieur."

"Pardieu! So you think I am not worthy to mention it, Monsieur," cried
St. Aulaire, half-rising and laying his hand again on his dress sword.

"I know it, Monsieur," retorted Calvert, coolly.

"You are not so cold-blooded after all! I have struck fire at last!"
said St. Aulaire, looking at Calvert for an instant and then breaking
into a drunken laugh as he reseated himself. "'Tis a pity Madame de St.
Andre has not my luck--for, look you, Monsieur," he went on, leaning
over the back of the chair and shaking his finger at Calvert, "I think
she likes you and would be kind--very kind--to you, should you be
inclined to return to Paris and tempt your fortune."

"Were you sober, Monsieur, I would ask you for five minutes and a pair
of pistols or rapiers, if you prefer," says Calvert, white and
threatening.

"By God, Monsieur, how dare you say I am drunk?" flings out the other,
rising so unsteadily as to overturn the chair, which crashed upon the
floor. "But I have no time for duels just now. I have other and more
important business in hand. Later--later, sir, and I will be at your
service. I add that insult to the long list I have against you. I will
punish you when the time comes, but first I must punish her. She would
not even listen to me. She crushed me with her disdain. 'Tis another
favor I have to thank you for, Monsieur, I think." He was quite wild and
flushed by this time, and spoke so thickly that Calvert could scarce
understand him. The few gentlemen who had been lounging in the anteroom
had retired, thinking not to overhear a conversation evidently so
personal and stormy, so that they were quite alone. As St. Aulaire
reeled forward, a sudden thought came to Calvert.

"'_In vino veritas_,'" he said to himself, and then--"How do you propose
punishing Madame de St. Andre, Monsieur?" he asked, slowly, aloud, and
looking nonchalantly at the distorted face before him.

St. Aulaire laughed. "I am not as drunk as you think me, Monsieur
Calvert," he said. "'Tis enough that I know and shall act. By God, sir,"
he