esire to mix myself up with amorous intrigues."

"Come! this is either pride or modesty," said the count, insolently.
"For your own interest, pray do not advance such things; for, if we took
you at your word, and it became known, it might injure some of the nice
little trades that you carry on."

"There is one at least," said Rodin, drawing himself up as proudly as
M. de Montbron, "whose rude apprenticeship I shall owe to you. It is the
wearisome one of listening to your discourse."

"I tell you what, my good sir!" replied the count, disdainfully: "you
force me to remind you that there are more ways than one of chastising
impudent rogues."

"My dear count!" said Adrienne to M. de Montbron, with an air of
reproach.

With perfect coolness, Rodin replied: "I do not exactly see, sir, first,
what courage is shown by threatening a poor old man like myself, and,
secondly--"

"M. Rodin," said the count, interrupting the Jesuit, "first, a poor old
man like you, who does evil under the shelter of the age he dishonors,
is both cowardly and wicked, and deserves a double chastisement;
secondly, with regard to this question of age, I am not aware that
gamekeepers and policemen bow down respectfully to the gray coats of old
wolves, and the gray hairs of old thieves. What do you think, my good
sir?"

Still impassible, Rodin raised his flabby eyelids, fixed for hardly a
second his little reptile eye upon the count, and darted at him one of
his rapid, cold, and piercing glances--and then the livid eyelid again
covered the dull eye of that corpse-like face.

"Not having the disadvantage of being an old wolf, and still less an
old thief," said Rodin, quietly, "you will permit me, sir, to take no
account of the pursuit of hunters and police. As for the reproaches made
me, I have a very simple method of answering--I do not say of justifying
myself--I never justify myself--"

"You don't say!" said the count.

"Never," resumed Rodin coolly; "my acts are sufficient for that. I
will then simply answer that seeing the deep, violent, almost fearful
impression made by this lady on the prince--"

"Let this assurance which you give me of the prince's love," said
Adrienne interrupting Rodin with an enchanting smile, "absolve you of
all the evil you wished to do me. The sight of our happiness be your
only punishment!"

"It may be that I need neither absolution nor punishment, for, as I have
already had the honor to observe to the count,