tened to
reply, holding out his hand to the honest tyrant with a genial smile,
"whatever is worth doing is worth doing well. But I could not help
remembering that I had dreamed of and hoped for very different triumphs
from this."

Isabelle, who meantime had been dressing for the other piece, passed
near de Sigognac just then, and gave him such an angelic look--so full
of tenderness, sympathy, and passionate love--that he quite forgot the
haughty Yolande, and felt really happy again. It was a divine balm, that
healed his wounded pride--for the moment at least; but such wounds are
all too apt to open and bleed again and again.

The Marquis de Bruyeres was at his post as usual, and though very
much occupied in applauding Zerbine, yet found time to go and pay his
respects to Mlle. Yolande de Foix. He related to her, without mentioning
the baron's name, the affair of the duel between Captain Fracasse and
the Duke of Vallombreuse saying that he ought to be able to give all the
details of that famous encounter better than anybody else, since he had
been present as one of the seconds.

"You need not be so mysterious about it," answered Yolande, "for it is
not difficult to divine that your Captain Fracasse is no other than the
Baron de Sigognac. Didn't I myself see him leaving his old owl-haunted
towers in company with this little Bohemienne, who plays her part of
ingenuous young girl with such a precious affectation of modesty?" she
added, with a forced laugh. "And wasn't he at your chateau with these
very players? Judging from his usual stupid, silly air, I would not
have believed him capable of making such a clever mountebank, and such a
faithful gallant."

As he conversed with Yolande, the marquis was looking about the house,
of which he had a much better view than from his own place near the
stage, and his attention was caught and fixed by the masked lady,
whom he had not seen before, as his back was always turned to her box.
Although her head and figure were much enveloped and disguised in a
profusion of black laces, the attitude and general contour of this
mysterious beauty seemed strangely familiar to him, and there was
something about her that reminded him forcibly of the marquise, his own
wife. "Bah!" said he to himself, "how foolish I am; she must be all safe
at the Chateau de Bruyeres, where I left her." But at that very moment
he caught sight of a diamond ring--a large solitaire, peculiarly
set--sparkling on he