h the handle of your whip." Norbert
sprang into the saddle, and sped away through the darkness like a
phantom of the night. Jean had made an excellent choice in the horse he
had brought for his master's use, and the animal made its way rapidly
through the mud and rain; but Norbert by this time was half mad with
excitement, and spurred him madly on. As he neared home a new idea
crossed his brain. Suppose it was a practical joke on the part of
some of the members of the club? In that case, they would doubtless
be watching for his arrival, and, after talking to him on indifferent
subjects, would, when he betrayed any symptoms of impatience, overwhelm
him with ridicule. The fear of this made him cautious. What should he do
with the horse he was riding? The wine-shops were open, and perhaps he
might pick up some man there who would take charge of it for him. As he
was debating this point, his eyes fell upon a soldier, probably on his
way to barracks.

"My man," asked the Duke, "would you like to earn twenty francs?"

"I should think so, if it is nothing contrary to the rules and
regulations of the army."

"It is only to take my horse and walk him up and down while I pay a
visit close by."

"I can stay out of the barracks a couple of hours longer, but no more,"
returned the soldier.

Norbert told the soldier where he was to wait for him, and then went on
rapidly to his own house, and reached the side street along which ran
the garden belonging to his magnificent residence. On the opposite side
of the street the houses all had porticoes, and Norbert took up his
position in one of these, and peered out carefully. He had studied the
whole street, which was not a long one, from beginning to end, and was
convinced that he was the only person in it. He made up his mind that he
would wait until midnight; and if by that time no one appeared, he would
feel confident that the Duchess was innocent, and return without any one
but Jean having known of his expedition. From his position he could see
that three windows on the second floor of his house were lighted up, and
those windows were in his wife's sleeping apartment. "She is the last
woman in the world to permit a lover to visit her," thought he. "No, no;
the whole thing is a hoax." He began to think of the way in which he
had treated his wife. Had he nothing to reproach himself with? Ten days
after their marriage he had deserted her entirely; and if during the
last few weeks he