eye to
your interests, monsieur."

It was clear that M. Cantagnac had not enchanted Antonino, for he had
taken care not to bring the plan of the house; it was brought, but by
another hand. On seeing the lady, the Marseillais bowed with exaggerated
politeness of the old school and stammered his compliments.

"No, no;" Clemenceau hastened to say, "this is not the lady of the
house, but a guest who, however, will show you the place."

It was Rebecca Daniels. As always happens with the Jews, whose long,
oval faces are not improved by mental trouble, she looked less
captivating than when she had shone as the star of the Harmonista
Music-hall; but, nevertheless, she was, for the refined eye, very
alluring. She accepted the task imposed on her with a gentle smile,
although it was evident that in her quick glance she had summed up the
visitor's qualities without much favor for him.

While Cantagnac was bowing again and fumbling confusedly with his hat,
Rebecca laid the plan on the table and whispered to Clemenceau:

"Do you know that she is here again?"

He nodded, whereupon her features, which had been animated, fell back
into habitual calm.

"She sends word by Hedwig, whom I intercepted, that she wants to see you
before seeing this purchaser of the house. I need not urge you to keep
calm?"

"No!"

"Come this way, please, monsieur," said Rebecca, lightly, as if fully at
ease, and she led Cantagnac out of the room.

Left to himself, with the notification of the important interview
overhanging him, the host pondered. He had at the first loved Rebecca,
and it was strange to him now that he had let Cesarine outshine her. He
had acted like an observer, who takes a comet for a planet shaken out of
its course. Since he loved the Jewess with a holier flame than ever the
Russian kindled, he perceived which was the true love. This is not an
earthly fire, but a divine spirit; not a chance shock, but the union of
two souls in unbroken harmony.

It is possible that Von Sendlingen in transmitting to Clemenceau the
notice by the butler's wife, that the Viscount Gratian was to aid her in
flight, but which as plainly revealed the wife's flight, had expected
the angered husband to execute justice on the betrayer. Human laws could
have absolved him if he had slain the couple at sight, but Clemenceau,
after the example of his father, had resolved not to transgress the
divine mandate again, even in this cause. He would have separate