'Yes, I shall be rich; I shall make a figure in the world,' she replied still smiling. 'Nevertheless the spell is a curse; for so long as I wear the ring I must be miserable, and if I lose it I shall be wicked.' 'Is there no third alternative?' 'There was, but now the moment is passed. That is your fault, monsieur.' 'My fault?' 'If, when I gave you the ring just now, and it was in your power, you had flung it far, far away into the sea, then the curse would have left me, and I should have been free always.' 'If that be all I'll soon set you at liberty. Give me the ring.' She shook her head. 'It is now too late. Such a chance can come only once. Have I not told you destiny mocks always? Behold my mother who beckons us.' We approached Madame, who took her daughter's hand affectionately in hers. 'My very dear, we dine to-day at half-past four; we must make our toilette early. But, my God! how your hand is cold, my child. You have been chilled by that fog this morning.' The Countess Almara laughed. 'It was not I; it was that poor young man with the black hair and the blue eyes who was swimming so far out; that he should have been chilled I could believe it. In effect it was droll,' she continued, turning to me. 'Figure yourself this little man--he was very little--little like that,' and she held her palm about four feet from the ground. 'Well, he swims out a fine distance, even as far as I go in the canoe. When the fog comes I hear a splash; I look round; I perceive this unfortunate infant. I think he shall be drowned, and I go towards him to preserve him. Then I see that this infant it is a man; and this man he seems to fear me more than to be drowned, for he swims away when I approach. So I return towards the shore, but slowly, so that he may see me and follow me; and, in fine, when we are nearly arrived the fog dissolves itself, and behold us.' 'Do you by hazard know this gentleman?' inquired the Countess Semaroff of me. 'He has the air of an Englishman.' 'No; he is an American,' I answered with a touch of prevarication. 'Ah, these Americans, how I hate them!' murmured the Countess Almara. Madame rose with a shrug of her shoulders. 'We shall have the pleasure of seeing Monsieur Campbell at the dance this evening?' 'Without doubt--that is--no. I am to depart by the diligence even at the present hour.' 'Depart to-day? Impossible! After having met Monsieur to lose him so soon!' 'Madame, I am desolated, but--affairs.' 'You will not go to-day,' said the Countess Almara, in a voice so low it could have been audible only to myself. 'Perhaps, indeed, I could manage to postpone for a few days----' I resumed, still addressing myself to Madame. 'Good. We remain here but a few days longer ourselves; and when we go you shall accompany us. That will be charming. Is it agreed?' 'Madame, a thousand acknowledgments.' 'Till this evening, then.'