making eyes at him already! But one who is drowning clutches at a
straw."

"Enough, madam," said the chevalier; "I understand all you would say. You
thank me in his name, and ask me to leave you: I obey-yes, madame, I am
going; at the risk of my life I will prevent this meeting, I will stifle
this fatal revelation. But grant me one last prayer-permit me to look
forward to seeing you once more before I leave this city, to which I wish
I had never come. But I shall quit it in a day or two, to-morrow
perhaps--as soon as I know that your happiness is assured. Oh! do not
refuse my last request; let the light of your eyes shine on me for the
last time; after that I shall depart--I shall fly far away for ever. But
if perchance, in spite of every effort, I fail, if the commander's
jealousy should make him impervious to my entreaties--to my tears, if he
whom you love should come and overwhelm you with reproaches and then
abandon you, would you drive me from your presence if I should then say,
'I love you'? Answer me, I beseech you."

"Go!" said she, "and prove worthy of my gratitude--or my love."

Seizing one of her hands, the chevalier covered it with passionate
kisses.

"Such barefaced impudence surpasses everything I could have imagined!"
murmured Quennebert: "fortunately, the play is over for to-night; if it
had gone on any longer, I should have done something foolish. The lady
hardly imagines what the end of the comedy will be."

Neither did Quennebert. It was an evening of adventures. It was written
that in the space of two hours Angelique was to run the gamut of all the