"You know it, then?" exclaimed Julien, eagerly.

"I know it, because I forced Reine to confess it."

"And the reason is?"

"That she does not love me."

"Reine--does not love you!"

Again a gleam of light irradiated the young man's large, blue eyes.
Claudet was leaning against the table, in front of his cousin; he
continued slowly, looking him steadily in the face:

"That is not all. Not only does Reine not love me, but she loves some
one else."

Julien changed color; the blood coursed over his cheeks, his forehead,
his ears; he drooped his head.

"Did she tell you so?" he murmured, at last, feebly.

"She did not, but I guessed it. Her heart is won, and I think I know by
whom."

Claudet had uttered these last words slowly and with a painful effort, at
the same time studying Julien's countenance with renewed inquiry. The
latter became more and more troubled, and his physiognomy expressed both
anxiety and embarrassment.