returned to his rooms.

Decidedly, everything was going well. The plate was destroyed, Phillis's
proof in his hands; he had nothing more to fear from this side. As to
the experiment made on the mother, it was decisive enough to inspire him
with confidence. If Madame Cormier, who had seen him so often and for so
long a time, and who thought of him at every instant, did not recognize
him, how was it possible that Madame Dammauville, who had only seen him
from a distance and for a few seconds, could recognize him after several
months?

Would he never accustom himself to the idea that his life could not have
the tranquil monotony of a bourgeois existence, that it would experience
shocks and storms, but that if he knew how to remain always master of his
force and will, it would bring him to a safe port?

The calm that was his before this vexation came back to him, and when the
last proofs of his concours, confirming the success of the first, had
given him the two titles that he so ardently desired and pursued at the
price of so many pains, so many efforts and privations, he could enjoy
his triumph in all security.

He held the present in his strong hands, and the future was his.

Now he could walk straight, boldly, his head high, jostling those who
annoyed him, according to his natural temperament.

Although these last months had been full of terrible agitation for him,
on account of everything connected with the affair of Caffie and
Florentin, and above all, on account of the fatigue, emotion, and the