lied:

"There can be nothing in common between us two."

"I am to marry Mademoiselle de Salves in a month," said Talizac, between
his close shut teeth. "Yesterday, at noon, you had the impertinence,
when riding past her mother's hotel, to throw a bouquet over the garden
wall."

"Well?"

"You probably have excellent reasons for concealing your name, but I
give you fair warning that if you are again guilty of similar conduct,
that your chastisement will be swift and sure!"

The Vicomte stopped short, for the young man grasped him by the wrist
with such strength that Frederic caught his breath in pain.

The stranger spoke in a low, calm voice.

"You have insulted me--wait!"

He turned and called to his friends.

"Gentlemen," he said, "this man has insulted me. Shall I fight him? He
is the Vicomte de Talizac."

One of the friends, who wore the ribbon of the Legion of Honor, replied:

"You cannot fight with a Talizac!"

The Vicomte uttered a cry of rage, but the other still held him firmly.

"You see," he said, "we do not fight with people whom we do not respect.
If you do not understand me, apply to your father for an explanation--he
will give it to you. The day may come when you may have an opportunity
of killing me--if you can. Now go--return to your shameful pleasures!"

With features convulsed with rage the Vicomte, unable to speak, drew
from his pocket a handful of cards, and flung them into the face of the
unknown, who started forward, but one of his friends laid a restraining
hand on his arm.

"You do not belong to yourself!" he said, warningly.

Talizac disappeared. As he was hurrying on, blind with anger, a voice
cried:

"Is this the way you keep your appointments?"

It was the Italian, Fernando de Vellebri. He added, with a wink:

"You ought to have killed that fellow. You know him?"

"Very little."

"He was concerned in that affair at Tivoli. You will tell me about it."

The tone which the Italian employed was not pleasing to Frederic, who,
glad to have found a new adversary, answered quickly:

"I suppose you mean that I can tell you, if I choose. You seem to give
me orders."

"Suppose we sit down." And the Italian pointed to two chairs which were
unoccupied. He seated himself at once.

"My dear Vicomte," he said, serenely, "it seems to me that, situated as
we are, there should be no misunderstanding or quarrel between us."

"How do you mean?"

"I mean what you seem to have forg