ou, Leopold; this once you must excuse me if I do anything
you consider in bad form. How dare he show his face here? I can do
nothing more for him. You will stand by me, won't you?"

I took her hand and led her to my room. Rudolf lay on the sofa, fast
asleep. When he saw Francis standing before him, he jumped up as if
to embrace her, but she drew back. He did not seem hurt, but he lost
his tone of assurance.

"I understand, Francis, that my return is not a joyful surprise
to you."

"You have broken your promise. You gave me your word of honour you
would stay in America. At any rate, you ought never to have set foot
in your native country again----"

"Don't judge me without having heard----"

"Is it not tempting fortune to come back here to the Werve, where
you may so easily be recognized?"

"Oh, don't make yourself uneasy on that score, my dear. I have taken
precautions; and as for breaking my promise, I beg your pardon on my
bended knees."

And he made a gesture as if he would fall on his knees before her.

"Don't be theatrical," she said severely, and again retreated some
steps from him.

"Heaven forbid! On the boards, to gain a livelihood, it is another
thing; but in your presence, before you, Francis, whom I honour and
love, I wish to justify my conduct. You may condemn me afterwards, if
you like. It was really my intention never to appear before your eyes
again. Alas! man is but the puppet of fortune, and I have not been able
to swim against the stream. I have had all sorts of adventures--but
can I tell you all now?" he added, looking significantly at me. "To
tell you the truth, I had reckoned on our being alone."

"Stay, Leopold," she said, in answer to an inquiring look I gave her.

"Francis," resumed Rudolf, with tears in his eyes, "you know you need
no protector where I am."

"I know that, but I will not again expose myself to calumny for your
sake. As for your security, Rudolf, I can answer for my cousin Van
Zonshoven's discretion. You may tell him who you are without fear."

"It is a question of life and death," he said in French, with a most
indifferent shrug of the shoulders, and he again stretched himself at
full length on the sofa. "The least indiscretion, and my life will be
forfeited. What of that? I run the risk of breaking my neck every day."

And then, turning towards me, he began to sing, or rather to try
to sing, with a voice quite hoarse, and with a theatrical pose,
the following