"His voice, his look, his bearing, convinced me. I felt I was right. I said nothing. But at the moment the _maître d'hôtel_ was going to take away my glass I laid my hand upon it, and asked for a little bottle. "'I am going to take this wine to an analyst,' I said, with the most natural air in the world. 'They say that port made for the English market never even sees a grape. I am curious to know if that is the truth.' "They brought me a little bottle, and with the greatest calmness possible I filled it with the wine, corked it up and placed the bottle in my pocket. I wish you could have seen my brother-in-law's expression. We had a little explanation later on in the evening, at the end of which it was decided between us, in quite a friendly way, that I would not denounce him to the police, but that he would leave for Venice to-day. He will reside in the Palace, he will have a decent income, and I am certain he will not begin again. I warned him, in any case, I would have the wine analyzed, and that the result of this analysis would be placed somewhere safely. I may tell you that he had put a strong dose of strychnine in the bottle. I have two copies of the analyst's report. One of them I have given to Madame de Carlsberg and the other I would like you to keep. Will you?" "Gladly," replied Pierre, taking the paper that the Southerner held out to him. Such is the egoism of passion that, notwithstanding the astounding adventure of which he had just been made the confidant, Ely's name, uttered by chance, had moved him more than all the rest. It appeared to him that, as he spoke of Madame de Carlsberg, Corancez looked at him inquisitively. He wondered whether he had brought a message for him. No! Ely was not a woman to choose such a man as Corancez as ambassador. But Corancez was just the man to undertake such a conciliatory mission upon his own responsibility. He had gone to Ely's villa the night before to tell her the same story and to ask of her the same service. He had naturally spoken of Hautefeuille, and he had suspected a quarrel. This strange creature had a real affection, almost a religion, for Pierre. He felt a tender gratitude to Ely. Forgetting his own story, of which he was nevertheless very proud, he at once began to try to bring the two lovers together again. With all his intelligence he could not guess the truth of the tragedy being enacted in the souls of these two beings. He had seen them so loving and so happy together! He thought that to tell Pierre that Ely was suffering would be sufficient to bring him back to her. "Is it long since you saw Madame de Carlsberg?" he asked, after having finished commenting upon his adventure, which he did very modestly, for he was amiable enough in his triumph. "Not for several days," replied Hautefeuille. And the question made his heart beat.