ct knowledge of French had
concluded that Leduc (D'Arpajon) meant "the Duke of
Arpajon"--whereas, in reality, Leduc, a single word, was the
drum-major's name; D'Arpajon implying that he came from, or
belonged to, the little market town of Arpajon, not far from
Paris.--_Trans._]

As I made these crushing revelations you might have seen her gradually
sinking and collapsing, with her pretty purple lips just parted, and her
gazelle's eyes staring with frightened astonishment. She was the picture
of consternation.

All at once she darted towards me and abruptly caught me in her arms.

"Ah! it is you that I love!--you that I love!" she exclaimed in a
pathetic tone amid her transports.

I had some difficulty in releasing myself from her passionate embrace;
still I eventually succeeded in doing so, but only to confront a fresh
crisis of despair, whereupon I immediately confided Zouhra to the care
of her maids.

Then, without any further explanations, which would have been
superfluous, I withdrew.

Of course I am perfectly aware that you will try to derive from this
mishap some argument intended to triumph over my discomfiture.

I would have you remark, however, that you have no right to seize upon a
general fact--for infidelity is inherent in woman's nature--and draw
deductions respecting my particular case. All that you can reasonably
conclude is that the man who has four wives is bound to be deceived four
times as often as the man who has but one wife.

That is certainly a weighty argument, I confess.

However all that may be, my misfortune having been made evident to me,
and Zouhra being banished from my heart, it was necessary that I should
come to a decision with regard to her.

The most simple course was to consult my uncle; his own experience in a
similar mishap pointed him out as the best of advisers.

He listened to me, stroking his beard with the somewhat derisive phlegm
of a practical man, who is not sorry to find that he has some companions
in misfortune. It even seemed to me that I could detect a touch of
malicious satisfaction, as if he still resented my conduct as an heir.

When I had finished he quietly remarked:

"What an old stupid you are! You should have let her get married without
saying anything! In that way you would have saved us the expense of
sending her back home again."

"Well, unfortunately it's too late now for that, uncle," I answered.

To be brief,