parties at the Montagues, which had
begun as a concert, but was converted by us, in our gay and sociable
mood, into a dance, Maud had trotted me off to make up a quadrille.
Kondje-Gul, who, as you know, never dances, had withdrawn into the
boudoir adjoining the drawing-room, where she was looking through the
albums. I suspected nothing, and was engaged in a frivolous conversation
with Maud, when from where I stood, through the glass partition which
separated the two rooms, I noticed Kiusko come and sit down by her side.
It was natural enough that, seeing her alone, he considered himself
bound not to leave her so, for that might have looked like a want of
politeness on his part. It seemed to me, moreover, from their faces,
that their conversation was upon indifferent topics, and was being
conducted in that tone of ordinary friendliness which was usual between
them.

He was turning over the pages of an album as he talked to her. I had no
reason to pay much attention to this _tete-a-tete_, and was not even
intending to follow it, but once, near the end of the quadrille, my eyes
being again turned by chance in Kondje-Gul's direction, I saw her rise
up all of a sudden, as if something that Daniel had said had excited her
suddenly. I thought I saw her blush, raising her head proudly and
answering him in an offended tone.

The dance being now over, I left Maud, and, agitated by an anxious kind
of feeling, walked up to the boudoir. They were standing up, and
Kiusko's back being turned to the door, he did not see me enter.
Kondje-Gul saw me and said:

"Andre, come and give me your arm!"

At this unusually bold request, Daniel could not repress a gesture of
astonishment, and cast a bewildered glance at me. I advanced, and she
seized my arm with a convulsive movement, and addressed herself to my
rival:

"This is the second time, sir, that you have declared your love to me.
Let me tell you why I decline it: I am the slave of Monsieur Andre de
Peyrade, and I love him!"

If a thunderbolt had fallen at Daniel's feet, it could not have startled
him more than this. He turned so pale that I thought he was going to
faint. He gazed at both of us with a desperate and ferocious look, as if
some terrible thought was revolving in his mind. His features were
contracted into such a savage expression that I instinctively placed
myself between him and Kondje-Gul. But, all at once, frightened no doubt
at his own passion, he gave one glance