against Jerusalem, while, opposite, the groves
reveal the out lines of a nunnery upon the ruins of the dwellings of the
Caesars. And, at the extreme end, the Coliseum recalls to mind the ninety
thousand spectators come to see the martyrs suffer.

Such were the sights where lived the former pontifical zouave, and, on
ringing the bell of the third etage, Julien said to himself: "I am a
simpleton to come to propose to such a man what I have to propose. Yet it
is not to be a second in an ordinary duel, but simply to prevent an
adventure which might cost the lives of two men in the first place, then
the honor of Madame Steno, and, lastly, the peace of mind of three
innocent persons, Madame Gorka, Madame Maitland and my little friend
Alba.... He alone has sufficient authority to arrange all. It will be an
act of charity, like any other.... I hope he is at home," he concluded,
hearing the footstep of the servant, who recognized the visitor and who
anticipated all questions.

"The Marquis went out this morning before eight o'clock. He will not
return until dinner-time."

"Do you know where he has gone?"

"To hear mass in a catacomb, and to be present at a procession," replied
the footman, who took Dorsenne's card, adding: "The Trappists of Saint
Calixtus certainly know where the Marquis is.... He lunched with them."

"We shall see," said the young man to himself, somewhat disappointed. His
carriage rolled in the direction of Porte St. Sebastien, near which was
the catacomb and the humble dwelling contiguous to it--the last morsel of
the Papal domains kept by the poor monks. "Montfanon will have taken
communion this morning," thought he, "and at the very word duel he will
listen to nothing more. However, the matter must be arranged; it must
be.... What would I not give to know the truth of the scene between Gorka
and Florent? By what strange and diabolical ricochet did the Palatine hit
upon the latter when his business was with the brother-in-law?.... Will
he be angry that I am his adversary's second?.... Bah!... After our
conversation of the other day our friendship is ended.... Good, I am
already at the little church of 'Domine, quo vadis.'--["Lord, whither art
thou going?"]--I might say to myself: 'Juliane, quo vadis?' 'To perform
an act a little better than the majority of my actions,' I might reply."

That impressionable soul which vibrated at the slightest contact was
touched by the souvenir of one of the innumerable