“Has everybody gone?” asked Jeanne, pretending to yawn. “Messieurs Le Brede and Du Tremblay, the last guests, are just putting on their overcoats,” answered the maid. “But Monsieur Pierre Delarue has come back, and is asking whether Madame will speak with him for a moment.” “Monsieur Delarue?” repeated Jeanne, with astonishment. “He says he has something important to say to Madame.” “Where is he?” asked Jeanne. “There, in the gallery. The lights were being put out in the drawing-room.” “Well, show him in.” The maid went out. Jeanne, much puzzled, asked herself, what could have brought Pierre back? It must certainly be something very important. She had always felt somewhat awed in Pierre’s presence. At that moment the idea of being face to face with the young man was most distressing to her. A curtain was lifted and Pierre appeared. He remained silent and confused at the entrance of the room, his courage had deserted him. “Well,” said Jeanne, with assumed stiffness, “whatever is the matter, my friend?” “The matter is, my dear Jeanne,” began Pierre, “that--” But the explanation did not seem so very easy to give, for he stopped and could not go on. “That?” repeated Madame Cayrol. “I beg your pardon,” resumed Pierre. “I am greatly embarrassed. In coming here I obeyed a sudden impulse. I did not think of the manner in which I should tell you what I have to say, and I see that I shall have to run a great risk of offending you.” Jeanne assumed a haughty air. “Well, but, my dear friend, if what you have to say is so difficult, don’t say it.” “Impossible!” retorted Pierre. “My silence would cause irreparable mischief. In mercy, Jeanne, make my task easier! Meet me half way! You have projects for to-night which are known. Danger threatens you. Take care!” Jeanne shuddered. But controlling herself, she answered, laughing nervously: “What rubbish are you talking about? I am at home, surrounded by my servants, and I have nothing to fear. I beg of you to believe me.” “You deny it!” exclaimed Pierre. “I expected as much. But you are only taking useless trouble. Come, Jeanne, I am the friend of your childhood; you have no reason to fear aught from me. I am only trying to be of use to you. You must know that, by my coming here, I know all. Jeanne, listen to me!” “Are you mad?” interrupted the young woman, proudly, “or are you taking part in some absurd joke?” “I am in my right mind, unfortunately for you!” said Pierre, roughly, seeing that Jeanne refused to believe him. “And there is no joke in the matter. Everything is true, serious and terrible! Since you compel me to say things which may be unpalatable, they must out. Prince Panine is in your house, or he soon will be. Your husband, whom you think far away, is within call, perhaps, and will come and take you unawares. Is not that a serious matter?” A frown overspread her face, and in an ungovernable rage she stepped forward, determined not to give in, and exclaimed: