o listen to what Emile was saying, and to answer the
questions he was asking her about her own arrangements. She thought he
seemed relieved when she told him of Vardri's scheme, and she
restrained a strong desire to tell him also about the missing letter.

He gave her an address in the Russian capital to which she could write
during the next month, warning her at the same time to be careful in
what she said, to mention no names, and to avoid all references to
politics, as his correspondence would run the risk of being edited by
the police. Inside the envelope on which the address was written he
had enclosed forty francs.

"You'll probably find a little money useful one of these days," he
said. "Keep it till you really want it. You can't wear more than one
pair of boots at once, and there are other things more important. I
don't want you to thank me. You can go and sing something instead, and
do your best as it's for the last time."

Arithelli rose at once and went to the piano, eager to do something
that might give him pleasure.

She could play for herself now. Emile had succeeded in teaching her a
few easy accompaniments, so that he could listen without distraction.

She hesitated for a minute, turning over his big music book, and then
chose the popular song of the _cafe-chantants_ and streets, the famous
"_La Colombe_" with its lilting time, and mingled gaiety and sorrow.
One heard it everywhere, sung in Spanish, in the local patois, and in
French, by _artistes_ in the theatres, by factory girls, and sailors,
and market people. The _gamins_ and beggars whistled and hummed it in
the streets and squares.

Emile walked up and down the room as he listened. He had made her sing
in the hope of lessening in a small degree the strain he was enduring,
but what had possessed her to choose this song of all others? The
words told of one who was about to set sail, and lingered bidding adieu
to his Nina, the woman he loved.

"_Le jour ou quittant la terre pour l'ocean,
Je dis, priez Dieu, priez Dieu pour votre enfant.
Avant que nous mettre en route je crus revoir,
Nina! qui pleurait sans doute de desespoir._"

One could hear the rocking of the boat at anchor, the rippling of the
out-going tide.

In the second verse the time was changed, the words were hurried and
insistent.

"_Nina! si je succombe, el qu'un beau soir,
Une blanche colombe vient te voir,
Ouvre-lui ta fenetre car ce sera,
Mon