thus displayed in his presence. Gilet, whose policy it was to avoid
all collision with Philippe, did not appear. After watching his uncle
and Flore for a time with a discerning eye, the colonel judged that
the time had come to strike his grand blow.

"Adieu, my dear uncle," he said, rising as if to leave the house.

"Oh! don't go yet," cried the old man, who was comforted by Flore's
false tenderness. "Dine with us, Philippe."

"Yes, if you will come and take a walk with me."

"Monsieur is very feeble," interposed Mademoiselle Brazier; "just now
he was unwilling even to go out in the carriage," she added, turning
upon the old man the fixed look with which keepers quell a maniac.

Philippe took Flore by the arm, compelling her to look at him, and
looking at her in return as fixedly as she had just looked at her
victim.

"Tell me, mademoiselle," he said, "is it a fact that my uncle is not
free to take a walk with me?"

"Why, yes he is, monsieur," replied Flore, who was unable to make any
other answer.

"Very well. Come, uncle. Mademoiselle, give him his hat and cane."

"But--he never goes out without me. Do you, monsieur?"