nd who will be absolutely
silent--you acknowledge, I say, that the individual designated in the
documents subjoined to the deed, and whose identity is to be further
proved by an act of recognition prepared by your notary, Alexandre
Crottat, is your first husband, Comte Chabert. By the second clause
Comte Chabert, to secure your happiness, will undertake to assert his
rights only under certain circumstances set forth in the deed.--And
these," said Derville, in a parenthesis, "are none other than a failure
to carry out the conditions of this secret agreement.--M. Chabert, on
his part, agrees to accept judgment on a friendly suit, by which his
certificate of death shall be annulled, and his marriage dissolved."

"That will not suit me in the least," said the Countess with surprise.
"I will be a party to no suit; you know why."

"By the third clause," Derville went on, with imperturbable coolness,
"you pledge yourself to secure to Hyacinthe Comte Chabert an income of
twenty-four thousand francs on government stock held in his name, to
revert to you at his death--"

"But it is much too dear!" exclaimed the Countess.

"Can you compromise the matter cheaper?"

"Possibly."

"But what do you want, madame?"

"I want--I will not have a lawsuit. I want--"

"You want him to remain dead?" said Derville, interrupting her hastily.

"Monsieur," said the Countess, "if twenty-four thousand francs a year
are necessary, we will go to law--"

"Yes, we will go to law," said the Colonel in a deep voice, as he opened
the door and stood before his wife, with one hand in his waistcoat and
the other hanging by his side--an attitude to which the recollection of
his adventure gave horrible significance.

"It is he," said the Countess to herself.

"Too dear!" the old soldier exclaimed. "I have given you near on a
million, and you are cheapening my misfortunes. Very well; now I will
have you--you and your fortune. Our goods are in common, our marriage is
not dissolved--"

"But monsieur is not Colonel Chabert!" cried the Countess, in feigned
amazement.

"Indeed!" said the old man, in a tone of intense irony. "Do you want
proofs? I found you in the Palais Royal----"

The Countess turned pale. Seeing her grow white under her rouge, the old
soldier paused, touched by the acute suffering he was inflicting on the
woman he had once so ardently loved; but she shot such a venomous glance
at him that he abruptly went on:

"You were with La-