Malletort had long ago expressed an opinion on the despotism of King Chiffon, but he little expected to be thwarted by that monarch in dealing with one of his most devoted subjects. When Captain George knocked the poisoned bouquet out of Madame de Parabére’s hand, with a happy awkwardness seldom displayed in ball-rooms, a cluster of its blossoms caught in the flounces of her dress. Despite languor of manner and immobility of feature, this lady possessed coolness, resolution, and resource in emergency. She concealed the stray cluster in her handkerchief, said nothing about it, took it home, put it under glass, and then locked it carefully away in a cabinet. After she had heard mass next morning, she walked quietly off to Bartoletti’s house, attended by two armed domestics and accompanied by her maid, as if going to buy cosmetics, and produced the blossoms for that unwilling chemist to analyse. The Signor, to tell the truth, was always averse to tampering with poisons, although in the way of business it was difficult to keep clear of them. As, on the present occasion, he felt nothing was to be gained by falsehood, as Madame de Parabére was a dangerous enemy to provoke, and above all, as she paid him liberally, he produced his tests without delay, and informed her she had narrowly escaped loss of beauty, if not of life, by the inhalation of a subtle and effectual poison. The Signor argued in this way. He compromised nobody, neither was it any business of his that certain ingredients, sold to a brother student in separate quantities, had been scientifically mingled and sprinkled over these treacherous exotics. With the sums he had lately received from the Abbé on different accounts—with the liberal reward now brought him by Madame de Parabére—with the proceeds from his shares in Mississippi stock, of a feverish rise in which he had, by his friend’s advice, taken immediate advantage—with the sale of his wine, pictures, plate, and furniture—lastly, with the firm determination to abscond promptly, leaving his debts unpaid, he should find himself master of so much wealth as would enable him to purchase the freedom of Célandine (at a damaged valuation), to marry her, and settle down somewhere, perhaps under the glowing sky of the tropics, in luxury and scientific indolence for the rest of his life. Sensualist and impostor though he was, the man had yet some glimmering of a better and nobler existence than his necessities had hitherto permitted him to lead. He saw himself basking in the sun, sleeping in the shade, eating luxuriantly, drinking of the best, lying soft, yet devoting his leisure to the interests of science, and, when it did not interfere with his gratifications, giving those who needed help the benefit of his medical experience and advice. There are few but can be pitiful while they want occupation, and generous while it costs them nothing but a word.