“Yes, you shall have five hundred francs,” continued Daréna, “six hundred, in fact, if the affair goes off well. I will guarantee you that amount, and monsieur here will pay it.--Isn’t that rather pleasant, eh?” “Oh, yes, yes!” “Sapristi!” said Daréna, turning to his companion, “she strikes me as being stupider than a flock of geese! However, it makes no difference; Love is blind, and he is entitled to be deaf too.--Let’s have a drink! Another bowl, waiter.” “But--but----” “Be quiet, Comte de Globeski! you are at liberty not to drink any more, but you will still have the privilege of paying.” The second bowl was brought; the young Alsatian’s color became more brilliant than ever; even her eyes began to show some life and Daréna exclaimed: “_Fichtre!_ if only Chérubin could see her now! What a conflagration she would kindle! Comte de Globeski, see to it that Chichette has such eyes to-morrow evening; make her a little tipsy.” “Yes, with brandy!” muttered Poterne, blowing his nose. “Attention! as it is easier to become acquainted at the theatre than anywhere else, the Comte de Globeski will take his wife to the theatre to-morrow evening--to the Cirque; that is the favorite theatre of foreigners.” “Very good,” said Poterne, “we will go to the Cirque; we will sit in the second amphitheatre.” “And why not in paradise, at once? Hum! you make me blush for you, Globeski! You will take seats in the first balcony--in a box.” “But----” “No buts!--Madame must be dressed in perfect taste.” “I will do my best.” “And you, count, will look to it that you bear no resemblance to a certain hound named Poterne.” “There’s no danger.” “We will sit in your box, behind you; the Comtesse de Globeska will assassinate my young friend with her glances.--Do you understand, my girl?” “Oh, yes, yes!” “And above all things she must not seem to know me.” “Yes, yes!” “Comte de Globeski will go out during the entr’acte without his wife, who will answer the sweet speeches my young friend will make to her. She will not talk much, for fear of making a slip, but she will be loving and passionate.” “Oh, yes, yes!” “After the play the count will take his wife away, and we will follow them. He will take a cab, we will do the like. The rest will go of itself. It’s all agreed and understood. There’s no more punch; pay the bill, count, and let’s be off.” Poterne paid with a groan; Daréna even compelled him to give the waiter six sous; then they left the café. Mademoiselle Chichette lived on Rue Saint-Denis; they escorted her home and she promised not to go out on the following day, but to await Monsieur de Globeski’s coming. Then Daréna went to stroll in the Palais-Royal, and Poterne went home to bed. Daréna had taken his measures in advance; he knew that Monfréville was to attend a large dinner on the following day, so that Chérubin would be free. He had seen him in the morning and had said to him: