But, a week later, Colombel returned; and he had soon resumed his former habits. He came every evening to the house, bringing music and books. He was treated as of no consequence,--he was sent on errands like a servant or a poor relation. So they left him alone with the young girl, without thinking of harm. As in the old days, the two shut themselves up in the vast rooms, or remained for hours in the shade of the garden. In verity, they no longer played the same games. Therese walked slowly, with her skirt brushing the grass. Colombel, dressed like the rich young men of the town, accompanied her, whipping the path with a supple cane that he invariably carried. Yet, she was again the queen and he the slave. She tortured him with her fantastic humors, affectionate one moment and hard the next. He, when she turned her head, swept her with a glittering glance, sharp as a sword, and his whole vicious figure stretched and watched, dreaming a treachery. One summer evening, they had strolled in the heavy shadow of the chestnut trees for some time in silence, when Therese suddenly remarked: "I am tired, Colombel. Suppose you carry me as you used to." He laughed lightly; then answered seriously: "I am willing, Therese." Without another word, Therese sprang upon his back with her old agility. "Now go!" she cried. She had snatched his cane and she lashed his legs with it, forcing him into a gallop beneath the thick foliage. He had not said a word; he breathed hard and tried to stiffen his slender legs, as the warm weight of the big girl bore him down. But, when she cried out "Enough!" he did not stop. He ran all the faster, as if carried on by the impetus of the start. In spite of lashings and the digging in of her nails, he made for a shed in which the gardener kept his tools. There, he threw her roughly upon a heap of straw, and, his vindictiveness lending strength to his puny body, he vanquished her. At last, it was his turn to be master! Therese became even paler, while her eyes grew blacker than ever and her mouth a more vivid crimson. She continued her devotional life. Several days after the first occurrence, Therese, still panting with the desire to subjugate little Colombel, again leaped upon his back and lashed him. But the scene had the same ending. Again, she was thrown upon the straw and wronged. Before the world, she maintained a sisterly attitude toward him. He, also, was of a smiling tranquility. They were again, as at six years of age, a couple of unruly animals, amusing themselves in secret by biting each other. Only, to-day, the male was victorious.