light, a gleam of joy illumine her face!--Oh! she loves me! she loves me, Jarnonville! And she will be mine!" The Black Chevalier had listened to Léodgard with a gloomy expression; when the young man had finished his story, he shook his head, saying: "I do not like this business of seducing young girls! There is at the root of the whole matter something that offends and oppresses the heart. Tell me of a deceived husband, of a jealous rival, of a cruel guardian, if you please. In such cases there is some danger, some risk to be run; there are often sword thrusts or dagger thrusts to be received or exchanged.--You fight, and that occupies, distracts, the mind. But in this instance! seduction! desertion! To make a poor creature weep who has not had the power to defend herself!" "Ha! ha! ha! On my word, my dear Jarnonville, I cannot help laughing to listen to you! What! is it really you, the bully, the miscreant, the man who believes in nothing--for that is what you are called--who shed tears over the fate of a girl, because I propose to make love to her, and she is likely to hear me? A terrible catastrophe, truly!--How does it happen that you, whose heart, as you have just told me, is closed henceforth to all tender sentiments; that you who have taken the world in hatred and who look upon existence as a burden; who seek, in short, by doing ill to others, to avenge yourself for the ill that destiny has done to you--that you blame me for gratifying my passions at the risk of causing a few tears to flow?" The Sire de Jarnonville drew his heavy eyebrows together and muttered some words which Léodgard could not hear; then he raised his head abruptly and said to the young count: "As I cannot be of any service to you here, I will leave you. Adieu! good luck!" "Oh! I beg your pardon--another word, Jarnonville," cried Léodgard, detaining the Black Chevalier. "I have a favor to ask of you--that is, if you are in a position to grant it. I lost yesterday at brelan all that I possessed; I have not a sou.--Money! money! When, in God's name, shall I have enough to gratify my desires? to enjoy life? For there is no enjoyment when one is constantly obliged to borrow, to have recourse to usurers. I have been in such straits of late that my valet, that knave Latournelle, has left me, on the pretext that I gambled away his wages! I no longer have any servants, except my father's; but I prefer to go without. That old villain Isaac Lehmann, the money lender, who ordinarily supplies me with funds, is away from Paris at this moment. Do you know another, Jarnonville? If so, will you give me his address; especially as Isaac is beginning to make trouble about lending me any more, although the old rascal knows well enough that he will be paid sooner or later." "I thought that your father paid all your debts some time ago?" "Yes, and forbade me to incur any more. Ah! if he knew!--Why, he threatened me with the Bastille!"