"Who but Gustave, in his rage, because I preferred the count to him?" "Gustave? why, that is impossible. He left Paris a week ago; he came to say good-bye to us, and Monsieur de Raincy, who has just come from England, met him there." "Is it possible that it wasn't Gustave? Then who could it have been--unless it was that tall swashbuckler who fought with Auguste?" "Yes, it must have been he." "That's it! that fellow seems to have the very devil in him! As soon as I am married, or when someone thinks of marrying me, he appears with his long sword. Why, it's a perfect outrage! Ah! that Monsieur Cherami! And I have been so polite to him, too--asked him to come to see me!" "What! you asked him to come to see you? A man who had fought with your husband?" "Well! what has that to do with it? You know perfectly well that they made it up. But I must go to inquire for the poor count. Perhaps I can see him to-day, and find out how this duel came about. Ah! mon Dieu! if Monsieur de la Beriniere should die, I should be a widow a second time, and without being a countess!" Fanny left Adolphine much disturbed and agitated by what she had heard. The young widow drove to Monsieur de la Beriniere's house, and found that the doctor had revoked his orders of the day before; she could see the count, on condition that she would not let him talk much. The young woman entered the sick-room with every manifestation of the keenest interest; she uttered heartfelt exclamations, sighed profoundly, and winked her eyes so often that she succeeded in making them very red. The count smiled at his pretty visitor and held out his hand, which she seized and pressed to her bosom. "If you had been killed," she cried, "I should not have survived you! But who was the savage? How did this duel come about?" "I am forbidden to talk," murmured the count, in a weak voice. "Oh! of course, excuse me. My curiosity is very natural, however. Just a word: was it my old play-fellow with whom you fought?" "No; it was a friend of his--named Cherami." "Monsieur Cherami? Oh! the miserable wretch! It was he before--with Auguste. But what, in God's name, have I ever done to that man? or, rather, what have they whom I love done to him? However, my dear count, you will recover, there's no doubt of that; and then, by dint of love and loving attentions, I hope to make you forget an incident of which I was the first cause." "You think it isn't serious?" "No, certainly not; it will amount to nothing. God! if the wound had been dangerous--if I had had reason to fear for your life--I don't know what would have become of me! Ah! when anything happens to those who are dear to us, that is the time we feel--how dear they are to us!" "You are too kind." "Are you in pain?" "Only a little; but I am exceedingly weak." "I will go, for I am capable of talking to you too much, in spite of myself, and that would tire you. Au revoir, my dear count! I will come every day, or send to inquire for you."