hand close
spasmodically on the handle of his sword, and, realizing how he must
be feeling, feared an outbreak on his part. With trembling fingers she
adjusted a little black "mouche" near the corner of her pretty mouth,
and pushed back her chair preparatory to rising from it--having a
legitimate cause for haste, as the tyrant had already more than once
roared out from the stage door, "Mesdemoiselles, are you ready?"

"Permit me, mademoiselle," said the duke starting forward, "you have
forgotten to put on an 'assassine,'" and touching the tip of his
forefinger to his lips he plunged it into the box of patches standing
open on the dressing-table, and brought one out on it. "Permit me to put
it on for you--here, just above your snowy bosom; it will enhance its
exquisite whiteness."

The action followed so quickly upon the words that Isabelle, terrified
at this cruel effrontery, had scarcely time to start to one side, and so
escape his profane touch; but the duke was not one to be easily balked
in anything he particularly desired to do, and pressing nearer he
again extended his hand towards Isabelle's white neck, and had almost
succeeded in accomplishing his object, when his arm was seized from
behind, and held firmly in a grasp of iron.

Furiously angry, he turned his head to see who had dared to lay hands
upon his sacred person, and perceived that it was the odious Captain
Fracasse.

"My lord duke," said he calmly, still holding his wrist firmly,
"Mademoiselle is in need of no assistance from you, or any one else, in
this matter." Then his grasp relaxed and he let go of the duke's arm.

Vallombreuse, who looked positively hideous at that moment, his face
pale to ghastliness and disfigured by the rage he felt, grasped the hilt
of his sword with the hand released by de Sigognac, and drew it partly
out of its scabbard, as if he meant to attack him, his eyes flashing
fire and every feature working in its frenzy--the baron meanwhile
standing perfectly motionless, quietly awaiting the onset.

But ere he had touched him the duke stopped short; a sudden thought
had extinguished his blazing fury like a douche of cold water; his
self-control returned, his face resumed its wonted expression, the
colour came to his lips, and his eyes showed the most icy disdain, the
most supreme contempt that it could be possible for one human being to
manifest for another. He had remembered just in time that he must not so
greatly demean hi