Madame Duponceau's breakfast did not interfere with Cherami's enjoyment of the foie gras, which he watered with frequent draughts of Beaune, saying to his neighbor from time to time: "Pray drink a glass of this wine; it's old and very good; there won't be any left in a moment; however, we can remedy that by ordering another.--Waiter, bring me some kind of cheese and a second bottle of this Beaune." Auguste had ceased to write; he sealed the two letters and handed them to Cherami. "Will you kindly take these letters, my dear monsieur? one is for my wife, Madame Monleard; the address is written on it." "By the way, how is your good wife?" "Very well; but allow me to finish. This other letter, without address, is for you." "For me?" "Yes; and you must give me your word of honor not to read it until half an hour after I have left you." "Half an hour after you have left me?" "Yes; will you promise?" "If it will oblige you, I promise." "Thanks; I rely upon your word." "You may safely do so; I haven't thirty-six words in serious matters; but the other letter?" "When you have read what I have written to you, you will see what I ask you to do; and I am confident that you will carry out my intentions." "I have told you that I am entirely at your service." "Here is my purse, for I shall not come back here. You will find enough inside to pay for whatever you may have ordered." "Very good; I will pay, and I will put the change in the purse. It's a very pretty little thing--very dainty, and in excellent taste." "If you like it, pray keep it in memory of--our acquaintance." "You are really too kind. I don't stand on ceremony, myself, so I accept it." "And now--pour me a glass of wine, so that I may drink with you." "Ah! now you're talking!" Cherami filled two glasses; Auguste took one of them with a firm hand, touched it to the one held by the ex-beau, muttered a few unintelligible words, and swallowed the wine at a single gulp. "Sapristi! how fast you go! one has no time to follow you. I toss champagne off like that sometimes, but it's a miserable way to drink, as a rule. I like better to sip. Shall we have another glass, so that I may drink your health?" "No, I haven't time. Adieu, monsieur; I rely on your promise. You will not read that letter for half an hour." "You have my word! Are you going so soon?" "I must." "When shall I see you again?" "Impossible to say. Adieu, monsieur!" "Au revoir, rather!" Auguste took his hat, shook hands with Cherami, pointed again to the two letters on the table, and rushed from the room. Cherami balanced himself on the hind legs of his chair, drank another glass of wine, and ordered cigars, saying: "As I have to stay here another half-hour, I may as well employ my time to advantage.--Waiter! coffee, brandy, and kirsch. By the way, see what time it is now by your sundials, and tell me exactly." The waiter brought what had been ordered, and said: