on having
many relays: no sooner is one horse exhausted than there is another to
take its place."

"That is a precious gift," he replied, briefly. "I assure you, however,
that you calumniate the Engadine. The trees there are not so well grown
as those in your park; but the Alpine fir and pine have their beauty."

"You went to this hole for your health, monsieur?"

"Yes, and no, madame. I was not ill, but any physician contended that
I should be still better if I breathed the air of the Alps for three
weeks. It was taking a cure as a preventive."

"M. Larinski made the ascent of the Morteratsch," said Camille, who,
seated on a divan with his arms extended on his knees, never had ceased
to look at Samuel Brohl with a hard and hostile glance. "That is an
exploit that can be performed only by well people."

"It is no exploit," replied Samuel; "it is a work of patience, easy for
those who are not subject to vertigo."

"You are too modest," rejoined the young man. "Had I done as much, I
would sound a trumpet."

"Have you attempted the ascent?" asked Samuel.

"Not at all. I do not care about having feats of prowess to relate," he
replied, in an almost challenging tone.

Mme. de Lorcy hastened to interrupt the conversation by saying, "Is this
the first time you have been in Paris, monsieur?"

"Yes, madame," replied Samuel, who withdrew more and more into his
shell.

"And does Paris please you as much as a pine-grove?"

"Much more, madame."

"Have you any acquaintances?"

"None; and the truth is, I have no desire to make any."

"Why?"

"Shall I tell you my reason? I am not fond of breaking ice, and
Poles complain that there is nothing in the world so icy as Parisian
coldness."

"That explains itself," cried Camille. "Paris, that is Paris proper, is
a small city of a hundred thousand souls, and this small city is invaded
more and more, by strangers who come here to seek pleasure or fortune.
It is but natural that Paris should protect itself."

"Parisians pride themselves on their penetration," replied Samuel.
"It does not require much of it to distinguish an honest man from an
adventurer."

"Ah! permit me," returned M. Langis, "that depends a good deal on
practice. The most skillful are deceived."

Samuel Brohl rose and made a movement to leave. Mme. de Lorcy insisted
on his sitting down again. She saw that she had made a bad beginning in
the fulfilment of her office of examining magistrate, and of gain