ot welcome
to the hearer, Hedwig, added: "but it does not matter. We are receiving
no more company, lest the great secret leak out, and so we don't need a
lady at the table. She is going away with her father, who is to open the
Rifle Company's offices in Paris, and that's all!"

"It is quite enough!" remarked the other, frowning.

"What is the last word about him?" inquired the servant, "the
viscount-baron, I mean."

"M. de Terremonde?"

"Yes; you haven't said a word about him."

"Do you not know?" began Cesarine, shuddering as the scene in the
twilight arose before her on the background of the sombre side of the
room.

"He was not likely to return hereabouts. Master might have tried the new
rifle upon him," with a suppressed laugh.

"Well, if you do not know, I need only say that I am perfectly ignorant
of his whereabouts. I went to town without his escort, and I suppose--if
he has disappeared," she concluded with emphasis, "that he has gone on a
journey of pleasure, or is dead."

"Dead," uttered Hedwig, shuddering in her turn, "in what a singular
tone you say that word."

"What concern is it of mine?" questioned Madame Clemenceau, pursing up
her lips to conceal a little fluttering from the dread she felt at the
effectual way in which her lover had been removed from mortal knowledge.
"I do not mind declaring that, if I am given any choice in the matter, I
should prefer his taking the latter course."

Hedwig's teeth chattered so that the other looked hard at her till she
faltered the explanation:

"Your way of saying things, madame, gives me cold shivers up and down
the back--ugh! Why, that gentleman was over head and ears in love with
you!"

"That is why he probably went under so quickly, and could not keep his
head above water!"

"I thought you liked him a goodish bit--"

"I--oh!"

An explosion, very sharp and peculiarly splitting the air, resounded
under the windows and caused Cesarine to clap her hands to her ears in
terror.

CHAPTER XIII.

THE REVOLUTION IN ARTILLERY.

"Oh, what is that?" muttered Cesarine, with white lips.

Hedwig laughed, but going to the window, calmly replied:

"It is only the master--no, it is M. Antonino, who is trying the rifle
they invented. Isn't it funny, though--it does not use powder or
anything of that sort--it does not shoot out fire, but only the bullet,
and there's no smoke! I never heard of such a thing, and I call it
magic!"

"A gun without p