ly, I
must see you once more before I die!"

Startled, awe-struck, only half realizing the meaning of his
words, Madelon slid off the bed and prepared to obey. At that
moment there came a tremendous knocking at the door of the
room, and a voice half chanting, half shouting,--

"Are you here, my friend? Are you within to-night? Can one
enter? Open quick; it is I, it is your friend! Are you ready
for your little revenge? I am ready, for my part; I will give
it to you--yes, with pleasure--yes, with an open heart!"

"It is Legros!" cried M. Linders from his bed, in a sudden
spasm of rage, "it is that villain, that _miserable!_ Yes, yes,
come in; Madelon, light the candles quickly; where are the
cards? Ah--I will have my revenge yet!"

The door burst open, and Legros entered, just as Madelon had
succeeded in lighting the candles. He stopped short in his
uproarious entrance, suddenly sobered by the appearance of M.
Linders, as he lay propped up with pillows, his white face and
bandaged head, and eyes gleaming with fever and rage.

"Papa is very ill," says Madelon. "Monsieur, do not stay to-
night, I beg of you!"

"What are you saying, Madelon?" cried her father; "I forbid
you to say that again; bring me the cards. Legros, I am ready
for you; ah, there is then one more chance in life!"

"You are not fit to play, Monsieur," said the young man,
stepping back; "I will come again to-morrow."

"To-morrow!" answered M. Linders, with a sort of laugh, "have
you then so many to-morrows that you can talk of them
recklessly? Well, then, I will tell you--I have not--not one;
but I have to-night, and that I will not lose. Ah! you think
to cheat me in that way? you will put me off till to-morrow?
you will say then--Ah, this M. Linders can never have his
revenge now, he is quiet enough, I can keep his money in my
pocket? You shall not say that, Monsieur; Madelon, bring the
cards, and the lights, close to me, here, I cannot see well,
it is so dark."

He seized the cards, and began to deal them out on the
coverlet with his trembling hands. Madelon placed a small
table at his side, put one candle on it, and with the other in
her hand stood close to his pillow white and motionless.
Legros slowly and reluctantly drew a chair to the bedside, and
sat down opposite. There was a moment's pause, whilst M.
Linders shifted and sorted his cards, and then, "A vous,
Monsieur," he cried, with a sort of fierce impatience; but at
the same inst