er to take the child. If ever you have such a
thought--not now, Monsieur. Have you?"

"You are severe, Madame," he replied in a hoarse voice.

She breathed a sigh.

"Come!" she said, and led the way upstairs. She opened the door of the
chamber and permitted him to enter it alone.

His first glance caught the eyes of his young wife fixed upon him. She
was half sitting up in bed, supported by pillows, and whiter than the
curtains whose shadow enveloped her. She held clasped to her breast her
sleeping infant, which was already covered, like its mother, with lace
and pink ribbons. From the depths of this nest she fixed on her husband
her large eyes, sparkling with a kind of savage light--an expression in
which the sentiment of triumph was blended with one of profound terror.
He stopped within a few feet of the bed, and saluted her with his most
winning smile.

"I have pitied you very much, Marie," he said.

"I thank you!" she replied, in a voice as feeble as a sigh.

She continued to regard him with the same suppliant and affrighted air.

"Are you a little happier now?" he continued.

The glittering eye of the young woman was fastened on the calm face of
her infant. Then turning toward Camors:

"You will not take him from me?"

"Never!" he replied.

As he pronounced these words his eyes were suddenly dimmed, and he
was astonished himself to feel a tear trickling down his cheek. He
experienced a singular feeling, he bent over, seized the folds of the
sheet, raised them to his lips, rose immediately and left the room.

In this terrible struggle, too often victorious against nature and
truth, the man was for once vanquished. But it would be idle to
imagine that a character of this temperament and of this obduracy could
transform itself, or could be materially modified under the stroke of
a few transitory emotions, or of a few nervous shocks. M. de Camors
rallied quickly from his weakness, if even he did not repent it. He
spent eight days at Reuilly, remarking in the countenance of Madame de
Tecle and in her manner toward him, more ease than formerly.

On his return to Paris, with thoughtful care he made some changes in
the interior arrangement of his mansion. This was to prepare for the
Countess and her son, who were to join him a few weeks later, larger and
more comfortable apartments, in which they were to be installed.

CHAPTER XIX. THE REPTILE TURNS TO STING

When Madame de Camors came to Paris and