n the vestibule had stood aside to
allow him to pass; and that, while crossing the courtyard, he had thrown
away the candelabrum with which he had defended himself. After that,
he remembered nothing distinctly. On reaching the street he had been
overcome by the fresh air, just as a carouser is overcome on emerging
from a heated dining-room. Perhaps the champagne which he had drank had
contributed to this cerebral disorder. At all events, even now, in
his own room, seated in his own arm-chair, and surrounded by familiar
objects, he did not succeed in regaining the possession of his
faculties.

He had barely strength enough to throw himself on to the bed, and in
a moment he was sleeping with that heavy slumber which so often
seizes hold of one on the occasion of a great crisis, and which has so
frequently been observed among persons condemned to death, on the night
preceding their execution. Four or five times his mother came to listen
at the door. Once she entered, and seeing her son sleeping soundly, she
could not repress a smile of satisfaction. "Poor Pascal!" she thought;
"he can bear no excess but excess of work. Heavens! how surprised and
mortified he will be when he awakes!"

Alas! it was not a trifling mortification, but despair, which awaited
the sleeper on his wakening; for the past, the present, and the future
were presented simultaneously and visionlike to his imagination.
Although he had scarcely regained the full use of his faculties, he was,
to some extent, at least capable of reflection and deliberation, and he
tried to look the situation bravely in the face. First, as to the past,
he had not the shadow of a doubt. He realized that he had fallen into a
vile trap, and the person who had laid it for him was undoubtedly M. de
Coralth, who, seated at his right, had prepared the "hands" with which
he had won. This was evident. It seemed equally proven that Madame
d'Argeles knew the real culprit--possibly she had detected him in the
act, possibly he had taken her into his confidence. But what he could
not fathom was M. de Coralth's motive. What could have prompted the
viscount to commit such an atrocious act? The incentive must have been
very powerful, since he had naturally incurred the danger of detection
and of being considered an accomplice at the least. And then what
influence had closed Madame d'Argeles's lips? But after all, what
was the use of these conjectures? It was an actual, unanswerable, and
terr