"I was out, and it was the porter who admitted M. Gerald in my absence. When I returned a few minutes ago, M. Bernard was laughing and singing, and I really believe even dancing, in spite of his weakness, and at last he flung his arms around me, shouting like a maniac, 'Victory, Mother Barbancon, victory!'" Gerald, in spite of his own troubles, could not repress a faint smile. It seemed as if he understood the cause of the old officer's delight, but when Olivier, who was really much disturbed, asked, "Do you know anything about this, Gerald?" the young duke replied, with the most natural air in the world: "Nothing whatever, upon my word! It seems to me more than probable, though, that the commander must have heard some good news, and there would be certainly nothing alarming about that." "Good news!" repeated Olivier, much surprised, and trying in vain to imagine what it could be. "Well, this much is certain," interposed Madame Barbancon, "after the commander had shouted 'Victory!' almost at the top of his voice, he asked: 'Is Olivier in the garden?' 'Yes, with M. Gerald,' I replied. 'Then get me my hat and cane quick, Mother Barbancon,' said he, 'and let me get off as soon as I can.' 'What! you are going out, weak as you are?' I exclaimed. 'You are very foolish to think of such a thing, monsieur.' But the commander wouldn't listen, and clapped his hat on his head and started as if he intended to come out here and speak to you; then he stopped short, and after reflecting a moment retraced his steps and went out at the front door, singing that miserable old song he sings only when he is in high glee about something,--which doesn't often happen with the poor, dear man!" "I don't know what to make of it," said Olivier, "and I can't help feeling a little uneasy. My uncle has seemed so feeble since his last attack, that a half hour in the garden yesterday exhausted him completely." "Oh, don't be alarmed, my friend, joy never kills." "I think I had better go down the street a little way, M. Olivier," said Madame Barbancon. "He has an idea that exercise outside will do him more good than his walks in the garden, and perhaps I shall find him down there. But what on earth could he have meant by his 'Victory, Mother Barbancon, victory!' He must have heard something new in favour of his Bu-u-onaparte." And the worthy woman hastened off. "Don't be uneasy, Olivier," said Gerald, kindly. "The worst that can happen is that the commander may tire himself a little." The clock in the neighbouring steeple struck nine, and Olivier, remembering the mission he had promised to fulfil, said: "Well, it is nine o'clock. I am going." "My dear Olivier," said Gerald, "you forget your own anxieties in your solicitude for my interests; and I, in my selfishness, haven't said so much as a word to you about your sweetheart." "What sweetheart?" "Why, the young girl you met at Madame Herbaut's Sunday."