At last, they would leave in two days, so it was determined. Rosas had wished to see Guy again for the last time. At Rue d'Aumale they informed him that Monsieur de Lissac was travelling. The shutters of the apartment were not, however, closed. The duke had for a moment been tempted to insist on entering; then he withdrew and returned home without analyzing too closely the feeling of annoyance that came over him. The weather was splendid and dry. He returned on foot to Avenue Montaigne, where he expected to find Marianne superintending her trunks. On entering the house, the doors of which were open, as at the hour of packing and removing, giving the whole house the appearance of neglect and flight, he was astonished to hear a man's voice, which was neither that of Simon Kayser nor that of the valet, and evidently answering in a violent tone the equally evident angry voice of Marianne. He did not know this voice, and the noise of a bell-rope hastily pulled, in a fit of manifest anger, made him quicken his steps, as if he instinctively felt that the duchess was in danger. In the shadow of a dull December evening, the house, with its disordered appearance that resembled a sacking, assumed a sinister aspect. Jose suddenly felt a sentiment of anguish. He quickly reached the salon, where Marianne was in a robe de chambre of black satin, and was standing near the chimney with an expression of anger in her eyes, holding the bell-rope, whose iron chain had struck against the wall. Before her stood a young man with a heavy moustache, his hat tilted over his ear, whom Monsieur de Rosas did not know. His manner was insolent and he looked thick-set in his black, close-buttoned frock-coat. His style was vulgar, and, with his hands in his pockets, he appeared both low and threatening. Marianne rang for a servant. She was flushed with rage. She became livid on seeing Jose. "What is the matter, then?" asked Rosas coldly, as he stepped between the duchess and the man. The man looked at him, took off his hat, and in a loud voice that was itself odoriferous, said: "You are Monsieur le Duc de Rosas, doubtless?" "Yes," said Jose, "and may I know--?" "Nothing! it is nothing!" cried Marianne, running hastily to Jose and taking his hands as if she desired to drag him away. "How, nothing?" the man then said, as he took a seat, holding his hat in his hand and placing his fist on his left hip, in the attitude of a fencing-master posing for an elegant effect. "To treat a gentleman as you have just treated me; you call that nothing?" He turned to Rosas and said, as he saluted him with the airs of a _sub. off._ on the stage: "Adolphe Gochard! You do not know me, Monsieur le duc?" "No," said Jose. "What do you want?--" "Ah! pardon me," said Gochard, as he interrupted Marianne. "You rang, you wished to have the presence of the servants. You threatened to have me pitched out of the door by the shoulders. Since you have called, they shall hear me."