t caught sight of the young man on whom de Jars had bestowed
the title and name of Chevalier de Moranges, and whose acquaintance the
reader has already made at the tavern in the rue Saint-Andre-des-Arts.
His appearance had as great an effect on the notary as a thunderbolt. He
stood motionless, trembling, breathless; his knees ready to give way
beneath him; everything black before his eyes. However, he soon pulled
himself together, and succeeded in overcoming the effects of his surprise
and terror. He looked once more through the hole in the partition, and
became so absorbed that no one in the whole world could have got a word
from him just then; the devil himself might have shrieked into his ears
unheeded, and a naked sword suspended over his head would not have
induced him to change his place.

CHAPTER IV

Before Mademoiselle de Guerchi had recovered from her fright the
commander spoke.

"As I am a gentleman, my beauty, if you were the Abbess of Montmartre,
you could not be more difficult of access. I met a blackguard on the
stairs who tried to stop me, and whom I was obliged to thrash soundly.
Is what they told me on my return true? Are you really doing penance,
and do you intend to take the veil?"

"Sir," answered Angelique, with great dignity, "whatever may be my plans,
I have a right to be surprised at your violence and at your intrusion at
such an hour."

"Before we go any farther," said de Jars, twirling round on his heels,
"allow me to present to you my nephew, the Chevalier de Moranges."

"Chevalier de Moranges!" muttered Quennebert, on whose memory in that
instant the name became indelibly engraven.

"A young man," continued the commander, "who has come back with me from
abroad. Good style, as you see, charming appearance. Now, you young
innocent, lift up your great black eyes and kiss madame's hand; I allow
it."

"Monsieur le commandeur, leave my room; begone, or I shall call----"

"Whom, then? Your lackeys? But I have beaten the only one you keep, as
I told you, and it will be some time before he'll be in a condition to
light me downstairs: 'Begone,' indeed! Is that the way you receive an
old friend? Pray be seated, chevalier."

He approached Mademoiselle de Guerchi, and, despite her resistance,
seized hold of one of her hands, and forcing her to sit down, seated
himself beside her.

"That's right, my girl," said he; "now let us talk sense. I understand
that before a stranger