ittle service you have rendered me, from henceforth we are quits. Don't
think that I am one of those who yield to violence. Keep out of my path;
it will be prudent."

"Listen, then, to this. I am not one of those who shirk a duty,
whatever the peril be in accomplishing it. You know what price I put on
Micheline's happiness; you are responsible for it, and I shall oblige
you to respect it."

And leaving Serge dumb with suppressed rage, Pierre went out on the
terrace.

On the high road the sound of the carriages bearing away Savinien,
Herzog and his daughter, resounded in the calm starry night. In
the villa everything was quiet. Pierre breathed with delight; he
instinctively turned his eyes toward the brilliant sky, and in the
far-off firmament, the star which he appropriated to himself long ago,
and which he had so desperately looked for when he was unhappy, suddenly
appeared bright and twinkling. He sighed and moved on.

The Prince spent a part of the night at the club; he was excessively
nervous, and after alternate losses and gains, he retired, carrying off
a goodly sum from his opponents. It was a long time since he had been so
lucky, and on his way home he smiled when he thought how false was the
proverb, "Lucky at play, unlucky in love." He thought of that adorable
Jeanne whom he had held in his arms a few hours before, and who had so
eagerly clung to him. He understood that she had never ceased to belong
to him. The image of Cayrol, self-confident man, happy in his love,
coming to his mind, caused Serge to laugh.

There was no thought for Micheline; she had been the stepping-stone to
fortune for him; he knew that she was gentle and thought her not very
discerning. He could easily deceive her; with a few caresses and a
little consideration he could maintain the illusion of his love for her.
Madame Desvarennes alone inconvenienced him in his arrangements. She was
sagacious, and on several occasions he had seen her unveil plots which
he thought were well contrived. He must really beware of her. He had
often noticed in her voice and look an alarming hardness. She was not a
woman to be afraid of a scandal. On the contrary, she would hail it with
joy, and be happy to get rid of him whom she hated with all her might.

In spite of himself, Serge remembered the night of his union to
Micheline, when he had said to Madame Desvarennes: "Take my life; it is
yours!" She had replied seriously, and almost threateningly: "Ve