mprehensible manner, discovered
the presence of my guest; and, stranger still, that he was scared by the
idea of a person in my room. I endeavored to compose him on the system
which I have already mentioned--that is to say, I swore at him in _my_
language. The result not proving satisfactory, I own I shook my fist in
his face, and left the bedchamber.

Returning to my fair friend, I found her walking backward and forward in a
state of excitement wonderful to behold. She had not waited for me to fill
her glass--she had begun the generous Moselle in my absence. I prevailed
on her with difficulty to place herself at the table. Nothing would induce
her to eat. "My appetite is gone," she said. "Give me wine."

The generous Moselle deserves its name--delicate on the palate, with
prodigious "body." The strength of this fine wine produced no stupefying
effect on my remarkable guest. It appeared to strengthen and exhilarate
her--nothing more. She always spoke in the same low tone, and always, turn
the conversation as I might, brought it back with the same dexterity to
the subject of the Englishman in the next room. In any other woman this
persistency would have offended me. My lovely guest was irresistible; I
answered her questions with the docility of a child. She possessed all the
amusing eccentricity of her nation. When I told her of the accident which
confined the Englishman to his bed, she sprang to her feet. An
extraordinary smile irradiated her countenance. She said, "Show me the
horse who broke the Englishman's leg! I must see that horse!" I took her
to the stables. She kissed the horse--on my word of honor, she kissed the
horse! That struck me. I said. "You _do_ know the man; and he has wronged
you in some way." No! she would not admit it, even then. "I kiss all
beautiful animals," she said. "Haven't I kissed _you_?" With that charming
explanation of her conduct, she ran back up the stairs. I only remained
behind to lock the stable door again. When I rejoined her, I made a
startling discovery. I caught her coming out of the Englishman's room.

"I was just going downstairs again to call you," she said. "The man in
there is getting noisy once more."

The mad Englishman's voice assailed our ears once again. "Rigobert!
Rigobert!"

He was a frightful object to look at when I saw him this time. His eyes
were staring wildly; the perspiration was pouring over his face. In a
panic of terror he clasped his hands; he pointed u