halo of nobility. Then he went to
bed in a tranquil frame of mind.

It was not so with Cisy. After the Baron's departure, Joseph had tried
to revive his drooping spirits, and, as the Vicomte remained in the same
dull mood:

"However, old boy, if you prefer to remain at home, I'll go and say so."

Cisy durst not answer "Certainly;" but he would have liked his cousin to
do him this service without speaking about it.

He wished that Frederick would die during the night of an attack of
apoplexy, or that a riot would break out so that next morning there
would be enough of barricades to shut up all the approaches to the Bois
de Boulogne, or that some emergency might prevent one of the seconds
from being present; for in the absence of seconds the duel would fall
through. He felt a longing to save himself by taking an express
train--no matter where. He regretted that he did not understand medicine
so as to be able to take something which, without endangering his life,
would cause it to be believed that he was dead. He finally wished to be
ill in earnest.

In order to get advice and assistance from someone, he sent for M. des
Aulnays. That worthy man had gone back to Saintonge on receiving a
letter informing him of the illness of one of his daughters. This
appeared an ominous circumstance to Cisy. Luckily, M. Vezou, his tutor,
came to see him. Then he unbosomed himself.

"What am I to do? my God! what am I do?"

"If I were in your place, Monsieur, I should pay some strapping fellow
from the market-place to go and give him a drubbing."

"He would still know who brought it about," replied Cisy.

And from time to time he uttered a groan; then:

"But is a man bound to fight a duel?"

"'Tis a relic of barbarism! What are you to do?"

Out of complaisance the pedagogue invited himself to dinner. His pupil
did not eat anything, but, after the meal, felt the necessity of taking
a short walk.

As they were passing a church, he said:

"Suppose we go in for a little while--to look?"

M. Vezou asked nothing better, and even offered him holy water.

It was the month of May. The altar was covered with flowers; voices were
chanting; the organ was resounding through the church. But he found it
impossible to pray, as the pomps of religion inspired him merely with
thoughts of funerals. He fancied that he could hear the murmurs of the
_De Profundis_.

"Let us go away. I don't feel well."

They spent the whole night playing c