All this time Serge remained in the little drawing-room enjoying the hope of returning peace. It was sweet to him, after the troubles he had gone through. He had not the slightest suspicion of the scene in the adjoining room between Jeanne and Micheline. The fond heroism of his wife and the self-denial of his mistress were unknown to him. Time was passing. At least an hour had sped since Micheline left him to go to her mother, and Serge was beginning to think that the interview was very long, when a light step made him tremble. It came from the gallery. He thought it was Micheline, and opening the door, he went to meet her. He drew back disappointed, vexed, and anxious, when he found it was Pierre. The two men had never met alone since that terrible night at Nice. Panine assumed a bold demeanor, and returned Pierre’s firm look. Steadying his voice, he said: “Ah! is it you?” “Were you not expecting me?” answered Pierre whose harsh voice thrilled Serge. The Prince opened his mouth to speak, but Pierre, did not give him time. In stern and provoking accents, he continued: “I made you a promise once; have you forgotten it? I have a good memory. You are a villain, and I come to chastise you!” “Pierre!” exclaimed the Prince, starting fiercely. But he suddenly calmed himself, and added: “Leave me! I will not listen to you!” “You will have to, though! You are a source of trouble and shame to the family to which you have allied yourself, and as you have not the courage to kill yourself, I have come to help you. You must leave Paris to-night, or you will be arrested. We shall go together to Brussels and there we shall fight. If chance favors you, you will be at liberty to continue your infamies, but at any rate I shall have done my best to rid two unfortunate women of your presence.” “You are mad!” said Serge, sneeringly. “Don’t think so! And know that I am ready for any emergency. Come; must I strike you, to give you courage?” growled Pierre, ready to suit the action to the word. “Ah! take care!” snarled Serge, with an evil look. And opening a drawer which was close to him, he took out a revolver. “Thief first, then murderer!” said Pierre, with a terrible laugh. “Come, let’s see you do it!” And he was going toward the Prince when the door opened, and Madame Desvarennes came forward. Placing her hand on Pierre’s shoulder, she said, in that commanding tone which few could resist: “Go; wait for me in my room. I wish it!” Pierre bowed, and, without answering, went out. Serge had placed the pistol on the table and was waiting. “We have to talk over several matters,” said Madame Desvarennes, gravely, “and you know it.” “Yes, Madame,” answered Panine, sadly, “and, believe me, no one judges my conduct more severely than I do.” The mistress could not help looking surprised.