Roncherolle to be my friend, my sincere friend; and despite his easy-going principles, he was the last man whom I deemed capable of betraying me! Alas! I believed in friendship, as I had believed in love; it is so pleasant to believe; but one suffers keenly in proportion when one is undeceived!

"I was destined to pay dear for my confidence ere long. Obliged to take a journey which would keep me away from Paris for a week, I desired to take my wife with me; she invented a thousand excuses for not accompanying me. I went away, urging Roncherolle to take care of Lucienne. I was blind, as you see; I had no suspicion of what others perhaps had already guessed.

"But when treachery surrounds us, it seems as if heaven itself undertakes to open our eyes; it arranges events in such a way as to reveal the truth to us; for I do not believe in chance, I believe only in Providence.

"As soon as I arrived at Havre, which was my destination, I found that the matter which I supposed was in litigation was settled, so that I was free the next day, and I started to return to Paris. I exulted in the thought of surprising my wife, whom I had not warned of my return. The train which took me back to Paris was delayed two hours on the way, and it was nearly midnight when I reached my house; the weather was bad, the night was very dark, but I distinguished a carriage which arrived almost at the same time as myself, and stopped a few steps from the porte cochère of my house. A secret presentiment or warning instantly took possession of my mind. Something told me that my wife was in that carriage, that she was not returning alone, and that I was on the point of discovering a shocking treachery! I cannot tell you how it was that that thought came to me so suddenly, or what was the source of the flash that suddenly gleamed in my eyes; but without hesitating a second, I quickened my pace and reached the carriage just as the driver opened the door to let the persons who were within alight. The size of the cab and the darkness enabled me to hide behind it and, unseen, to hear everything.

"Roncherolle alighted first, I recognized him instantly; then he helped my wife to alight; but imagine my feelings, when, instead of entering the house at once, I saw her walk a few steps away with Roncherolle, to whom she applied the sweetest and most affectionate names, and then made an appointment to meet him the next day. I did not need to hear any more; I could no longer doubt my misfortune. The man whom I had believed to be my sincere friend was my wife's lover! I rushed like a thunderbolt between the traitorous pair, and talked to them as they deserved. My wife uttered a shriek, and ran to the door and rang the bell. I grasped Roncherolle's arm, when he too tried to fly, and said to him: 'You know now what I expect of you; the insult you have offered me can only be wiped out with your blood; if heaven is just, I shall kill you; if not, after betraying your friend, you will have the added happiness of making his wife a widow. To-morrow morning, at eight o'clock, I shall expect you at Porte Maillot; we need no seconds; luckily, I know that you are no coward; I rely upon you.'

"Roncherolle disappeared without a word. I entered my house; I hesitated to appear before my wife, for I expected tears, entreaties, a scene of despair; but although my heart was torn, although it requires much courage to endure a blow which shatters in a moment the whole charm of one's life, my course was already fully decided upon, and that is why I went to my wife's apartment.

"Imagine my surprise, my stupefaction, when I found her occupied in preparing for the night, almost as tranquilly as if nothing had happened. However, at my approach, I saw that she trembled a little, she was afraid of me; that was the only sentiment that I inspired in her, that was her only remorse.

"'Do not tremble, madame,' I said to Lucienne, 'I am too well-bred to adopt extreme measures with you, measures which your infamous conduct would render excusable, perhaps, but which after all would not wipe out the dishonor with which you have covered my name. That name I propose to abandon, and I order you also to cease to bear it; this is the last order that you will receive from me. To-morrow I go away, I leave you forever. You have your own fortune, I have mine, and thank heaven! our marriage contract was drawn up in such a way that each of us retains the enjoyment of his own property. I shall make no noise, no scandal; the world may interpret my conduct as it pleases; very likely it will put me in the wrong, that would not surprise me; but I shall get over it; it will be much harder for me, no doubt, to give up a happiness of which I had dreamed, of which I was still dreaming, and which I did not think was destined to last so short a time; but I will try, and heaven will help me.'

"After saying this, I was silent for a few moments. I confess that I expected tears and some words of repentance. But I was mistaken again! My wife uttered a few incoherent sentences, in which, however, I understood that she was trying to make me think that I was a visionary, that I had misunderstood her conversation with Roncherolle, and finally she ended by saying that she was very unhappy with me and that we should do well to separate. I left her, I went away with death in my heart, but without a glance at that woman who had not a single tear for the unhappiness she caused me!

"The next day at seven o'clock, I had finished all my preparations for departure and had written to my notary; I was preparing to start for the place where I had appointed to meet Roncherolle, when a messenger brought me a letter; I recognized the handwriting of the man whom I was going to meet, and I hastily broke the seal; that letter has remained engraven in my memory! Roncherolle's missive was thus conceived:

"'My dear De Brévanne'—he had the effrontery still to address me so!—'I am very sorry for all that has happened. You have taken the thing too seriously! I believed that you—as everybody else did; and this is one of those things which happen every day; why in the devil did you come back when you were not expected? From the days of the famous Sultan of the Thousand and One Nights, such surprises have always brought ill luck to those who make them. Now you want to fight with me. I know perfectly well that you are entitled to, but it would be a stupendous piece of folly, which you would repent some day. Yes, if you should kill me, I will wager that later—much later probably, but at some time or other—the day would come when you would be sorry for it; for the passions calm down, and when a man reflects coolly, he is often surprised to find that he has been terribly angry for a trifle. I propose then to spare you the regret of having killed me; and as for myself, I need not tell you that I shall never aim a pistol at you. And so, as our duel cannot take place, it is useless for you to go to a rendezvous where you will not find me. You know me well enough to be aware that it is not from cowardice that I decline this duel; I have proved that. But with you,—no, whatever you may do, I will not fight; and as you will hope doubtless to meet me somewhere, I give you notice that when you receive this letter I shall already have left Paris. Adieu; I tell you again, I am sorry, very sorry for what I have done, as you are seriously offended, but if you should kill me ten times over, that would remedy nothing, for what is done is done. Adieu. He who no longer dares to call himself, but who will always be, your friend.'"

At this point in Monsieur de Brévanne's narrative, Monsieur de Merval could not help uttering an exclamation and interrupting the count.

"Upon my word," he said, "I do not believe that there ever was another letter like that. To write in such terms, under such circumstances! However, it depicts the man, and I recognize Monsieur de Roncherolle in every line; he