ck of his chair.
Occasionally his glance wandered toward madame and Anne. Brother
Jacques sat opposite, and the vicomte sat at his side. As they left
the table to circle round the fire in the living-room, Victor forgot
his cloak, and the vicomte threw it around his own shoulders, intending
to follow the poet and join him in a game of dominoes. A spurt of
flame crimson-hued his face and flashed over the garment.

Brother Jacques started, his mouth agape.

CHAPTER XXIX

A JOURNEY INTO THE HILLS AND THE TEN LIVRES OF CORPORAL FREMIN

"Madame, you have studiously avoided me." The vicomte twirled his hat.

"And with excellent reason, you will agree."

"You have been here six days, and you have not given me the barest
chance of speaking to you." There was a suspicion of drollery in his
reproachful tones.

"Monsieur," replied madame, who, finding herself finally trapped with
no avenue of escape, quickly adapted herself to the situation, the
battle of evasion, "our last meeting has not fully escaped my
recollection."

"All is fair in love and war. It came near being a good trick,--that
blank paper."

"Not quite so near as might be. It is true that I did not suspect your
ruse; but it is also true that I had but one idea and one intention, to
gain the paper."

"And supposing it had been real, genuine?"

"Why, then, I should have at least half of it, which would be the same
thing as having all of it." Contact with this man always put a
delicate edge to her wit and sense of defense. She could not deny a
particle of admiration for this strange man, who proceeded toward his
ends with the most intricate subterfuge, and who never drew a long
face, who accepted rebuffs with smiles and banter.

"You know, Madame, that whatever I have done or shall do is out of love
for you."

"I would you were out of love with me!"

"The quality of my love . . ."

"Ah, that is what disturbs me--the quality!" shrewdly.

"There is quality and quantity without end. I am not a lover who pines
and goes without his meals. Madame, observe me--I kneel. I tell you
that I adore you. Will you be my wife?"

"No, a thousand times no! I know you to be a brave man, Monsieur le
Vicomte; but who can put a finger on your fancy? To-day it is I;
to-morrow, elsewhere. You would soon tire of me who could bring you no
dowry save lost illusions and confiscated property. Doubtless you have
not heard that his Eminence the cardinal has