rtment without
meeting anybody or betraying themselves by the slightest sound. With the
same outward self-possession which had characterized his whole conduct,
Christian, after carefully closing the doors, lighted a candelabra filled
with candles which was upon the mantel, and then turned to his companion,
who was far less composed than he.

Gerfaut had suffered tortures since leaving the little parlor. A feeling
of regret and deepest pity, at the thought of the inevitable catastrophe
which must follow, had softened his heart. He saw in the most odious of
colors the selfishness of his love. Clemence's last glance as she fell
fainting at his feet--a forgiving and a loving glance--was like a dagger
in his heart. He had ruined her! the woman he loved! the queen of his
life! the angel he adored! This idea was like hell to him. He was almost
unable to control his emotion, dizzy as he was on the brink of the abyss
opened by his hand, into which he had precipitated what he counted as the
dearest part of his own self.

Bergenheim stood, cold and sombre, like a northern sky, opposite this
pale-faced man, upon whose countenance a thousand passionate emotions
were depicted like clouds on a stormy day.

When Bergenheim's eyes met Octave's, they were so full of vengeance and
hatred that the latter trembled as if he had come in contact with a wild
beast. The lover actually realized the inferiority of his attitude in the
presence of this enraged husband. A feeling of self-pride and indignation
came to his aid. He put aside remorse and regrets until later; these sad
expiations were forbidden him now; another duty lay before him. There is
only one reparation possible for certain offences. The course once open,
one must go to its very end; pardon is to be found only upon the tomb of
the offended.

Octave knew he had to submit to this necessity. He stifled all scruples
which might have weakened his firmness, and resumed his habitual
disdainful look. His eyes returned his enemy's glance of deadly hatred,
and he began the conversation like a man who is accustomed to master the
events of his life and forbids any one to shape them for him.

"Before any explanations take place between us," he said, "I have to
declare to you, upon my honor, that there is only one guilty person in
this affair, and that I am the one. The slightest reproach addressed to
Madame de Bergenheim would be a most unjust outrage and a most deplorable
error on your pa