itting an act of
cowardice--yes, but no greater, perhaps even less so, than smouldering
away in slavery and degradation. It was an ugly breach of trust. Not
really so, for he had expressed, himself plainly to Pilar, and she must
know how matters stood between them. Moreover, if you fall into the
mire, you cannot expect to get out of it again without besmirching
yourself. But--what will poor Pilar's feelings be when she comes home
and finds him gone? At the picture he faltered, and very near returned
to bed. But no--he put it forcibly from him.

He rapidly finished dressing, and went into his room to collect such
things as were absolutely necessary. The two large trunks had been
removed, and would in any case have been out of the question at this
juncture. The portmanteau lay behind a wardrobe. Into it he stuffed
some linen and clothes, a few books and his manuscript, cast one look
round the rooms in which he had encountered such heavy storms of the
heart, extinguished the lights, and walked resolutely downstairs.

The gas was burning in the hall, the front door stood half open, and on
the doorstep was Auguste, talking to a maid-servant from the next
house. She flitted away as the man turned round, and, to his
astonishment, perceived Wilhelm with a portmanteau in his hand. He
stepped quickly indoors.

"Ah," he said in a muffled tones, "Monsieur le Docteur! I understand--I
understand. I would have done it long ago. It really couldn't go on
like that any longer. But monsieur might have said a word to me; for as
to me--I am dumb!"

Wilhelm was crushed to the earth. So he was not to be spared one
humiliation, not even the patronizing familiarity of this lackey! But
it could not be helped now. Regardless of his opposition, Auguste took
the portmanteau out of his hand, and asked with eager civility where he
should carry it.

"Only to a fiacre," Wilhelm answered.

They went out together into the Boulevard Pereire, and as they walked
along beside the deep cutting of the circle railway, Auguste inquired:

"Monsieur is leaving Paris, no doubt?"

Wilhelm made no reply.

"Has Monsieur le Docteur left any address?" he continued urgently.

"No," answered Wilhelm.

"But it would be better if he did so, in case any letters might come.
And it will surely interest monsieur to know how things go on in the
house. Monsieur need only confide it to me. I would not tell it to a
single soul, not even if le bon Dieu himself came dow