lone.

_I._--And who is worthy to share the second rank with him?

_He._--The Renegade of Avignon.

_I._--I never heard of the Renegade of Avignon, but he must be an
astonishing man.

_He._--He is so, indeed.

_I._--The history of great personages has always interested me.

_He._--I can well believe it. This hero lived in the house of a
good and worthy descendant of Abraham, promised to the father of
the faithful in number equal to the stars in the heavens.

_I._--In the house of a Jew?

_He._--In the house of a Jew. He had at first surprised pity, then
goodwill, then entire confidence, for that is how it always
happens: we count so strongly on our kindness, that we seldom hide
our secrets from anybody on whom we have heaped benefits. How
should there not be ingrates in the world, when we expose this man
to the temptation of being ungrateful with impunity? That is a just
reflection which our Jew failed to make. He confided to the
renegade that he could not conscientiously eat pork. You will see
the advantage that a fertile wit knew how to get from such a
confession. Some months passed, during which our renegade redoubled
his attentions; when he believed his Jew thoroughly touched,
thoroughly captivated, thoroughly convinced that he had no better
friend among all the tribes of Israel ... now admire the
circumspection of the man! He is in no hurry; he lets the pear
ripen before he shakes the branch; too much haste might have
ruined his design. It is because greatness of character usually
results from the natural balance between several opposite
qualities.

_I._--Pray leave your reflections, and go straight on with your
story.

_He._--That is impossible. There are days when I cannot help
reflecting; 'tis a malady that must be allowed to run its course.
Where was I?

_I._--At the intimacy that had been established between the Jew and
the renegade.

_He._--Then the pear was ripe.... But you are not listening; what
are you dreaming about?

_I._--I am thinking of the curious inequality in your tone, now so
high, now so low.

_He._--How can a man made of vices be one and the same?... He
reaches his friend's house one night, with an air of violent
perturbation, with broken accents, a face as pale as deat