e prince, who, still under the influence of the burning excitement
into which he had been plunged by the words of the half-caste, did not
appear to perceive the Jesuit. The latter, surprised at the animated
expression of Djalma's countenance, and his almost frantic air, made a
sign of interrogation to Faringhea, who answered him privately in the
following symbolical manner:--After laying his forefinger on his head
and heart, he pointed to the fire burning in the chimney, signifying
by his pantomimic action that the head and heart of Djalma were both
in flames. No doubt Rodin understood him, for an imperceptible smile of
satisfaction played upon his wan lips; then he said aloud to Faringhea,
"I wish to be alone with the prince. Let down the shade and see that we
are not interrupted." The half-caste bowed, and touched a spring
near the sheet of plate-glass, which slid into the wall as the blind
descended; then, again bowing, Faringhea left the room. It was shortly
after that Mdlle. de Cardoville and Florine entered the greenhouse,
which was now only separated from the room in which was Djalma, by the
transparent thickness of a shade of white silk, embroidered with large
colored birds. The noise of the door, which Faringhea closed as he went
out, seemed to recall the young Indian to himself; his features, though
still animated, recovered their habitual expression of mildness and
gentleness; he started, drew his hand across his brow, looked around
him, as if waking up from a deep reverie, and then, advancing towards
Rodin, with an air as respectful as confused, he said to him, using
the expression commonly applied to old men in his country, "Pardon me,
father." Still following the customs of his nation, so full of deference
towards age, he took Rodin's hand to raise it to his lips, but the
Jesuit drew back a step, and refused his homage.

"For what do you ask pardon, my dear prince?" said he to Djalma.

"When you entered, I was in a dream; I did not come to meet you. Once
more, pardon me, father!"

"Once more, I forgive you with all my heart, my dear prince. But let us
have some talk. Pray resume your place on the couch, and your pipe, too,
if you like it."

But Djalma, instead of adopting the suggestion, and throwing himself
on the divan, according to his custom, insisted on seating himself in a
chair, notwithstanding all the persuasions of "the Old Man with the Good
Heart," as he always called the Jesuit.

"Really, y