When the young men were in the cab, the driver, spurred on by Albert, lashed his horse, which started off at a rapid trot; and Paul was left standing on the boulevard, with the letter to Monsieur Vermoncey in his hand. The young messenger considered what it was his duty to do. The sight of Albert recalled the adventure of the loft, Célestin's insolence, and his schemes to seduce Elina. For a moment, he was tempted to wait the prescribed two hours before delivering the letter. But such impulses, inspired by hatred, could not long exist in his heart. "This Monsieur Albert isn't as vicious as the others," he thought; "he allows his friends to lead him into folly, just as Sans-Cravate allows Jean Ficelle to lead him. But I don't believe that he is bad at heart. And if he should be killed! Mon Dieu! I think I have heard that his father had no one left but him, that he had lost all his other children. Ah! I must at least try to save this one for him. I will deliver the letter at once." Paul went to the address written on the letter. He did not know Albert's father, he had never seen him; and yet, the thought of his grief if his son should fall in this duel awoke the keenest interest in his heart. "I would like to speak to Monsieur Vermoncey--the elder," said Paul to the concierge. "Second floor, door at the left." "Is he at home?" "Yes; he never goes out so early." The messenger ran hastily up the two flights of stairs, rang at the door, and said to the servant who answered the bell: "I would like to speak to Monsieur Vermoncey." "What do you want of him?" "I have a letter for him." "Give it to me; I will hand it to him." "Oh! no, I must give it into his own hands." "But monsieur is breakfasting. However, I'll go and tell him. Wait." "But tell him that it is very urgent, most important." The servant left Paul in the reception-room, frantic with impatience. At last the man returned, and ushered him into the room where Monsieur Vermoncey was breakfasting. Albert's father looked up at the young man, who seemed to be profoundly agitated. Paul's interesting and by no means ordinary face prepossessed everybody in his favor; Monsieur Vermoncey addressed him kindly: "You wish to speak to me, my friend?" "Yes, monsieur." "You have a letter for me, I understand?" "Yes, monsieur." "Give it to me." "Oh! pardon me; but I must tell you first under what circumstances it was handed to me." "Very well, go on. But you seem much excited, my friend; try to be calm. If you have come in behalf of some unfortunate person, I will try to grant his request." "Oh! it isn't that, monsieur; this letter that I have brought is from monsieur your son." "From my son?" "Yes, monsieur; he handed it to me a few minutes ago, and said: 'If you don't see me again in two hours, take this letter to my father; but not before.'" "What does it mean?"