I would change nothing. The Abbe
should remain in his little house, his days and leisure at his own
disposal. The old servants were retained in the chateau. Only the
living-rooms should be closed to the ghosts that haunted them. The able
superintendent of all outdoor concerns, a domestic charge-d'affaires,
who had for years filled the position under my father, remained at the
head of all things. The only change in his routine was that once a week
he should have a morning with the Abbe. All matters were to pass under
the scrutiny of that wise judgment. If any difficulty arose he was to be
appealed to. It was the only service I asked at the hands of my old
tutor in return for the home and stipend it was my privilege to afford
him. He had long been white-haired, and was now venerable beyond his
nearly seventy years. He gave me his solemn benediction at parting, and
for the first time I saw him break down. He wept as he placed his hands
upon my head. 'This third parting is too much for me,' he cried. 'I can
no more.'

"So I turned my back upon my home, my face to the world. I was strong,
energetic, full of life and spirit, though for the moment clouded and
subdued. The Abbe had taken care that my mental powers should be
thoroughly trained. For twelve years I had been his constant care. In
many things he thought me his superior. Mathematics and classics, the
sciences, these by his rare skill he had made my amusement. But my
impulsive nature, quick sometimes to rashness, had not been conquered.
He had only given me a certain amount of judgment and common-sense which
must stand by me in moments of difficulty or danger. Altogether I was
well-fitted to take care of myself, in spite of my love of adventure and
quick temperament. You see that it clings to me still," added Delormais
with a smile. "The old Adam dies hard within us. Who else would have
treated you to a homily on black coffee and strong waters as I did this
morning?

"I departed on my travels with no fixed purpose other than to see the
world. To which point of the compass I turned, chance should decide."

* * * * *

Again Delormais paused as though absorbed in past recollections. For a
moment his white, well-shaped hand shielded his eyes. Then returning to
his former attitude, now gazing earnestly at us and now into space, he
continued his narrative.

CHAPTER X.

DELORMAIS' ROMANCE.

Rome--Count Albert--Happy months--