"Monsieur le marquis is too kind; what I have done was quite natural--I should have been so happy to find that Monsieur le Comte Léodgard still loved Bathilde!--And so, before making up my mind to tell the whole story to monsieur le marquis, I went many times to the house in Rue de Bretonvilliers, to try to speak with monsieur le comte; and yet I confess that I was a little afraid when I went to that quarter alone at night. And then, as they always told me that Monsieur Léodgard was not in, I sometimes passed a great part of the night waiting for his return; and once--oh! I was so frightened--I had such a horrible experience!--But I beg pardon, monseigneur; that cannot interest you--excuse me." Within a few seconds, Léodgard's face, as he listened to Ambroisine, had become deathly pale, and great drops of sweat stood on his brow; but he remained motionless in his place and affected to make light of what she said. The old marquis motioned to Ambroisine as she was about to turn away, saying: "Go on, my child; what happened to you in your friend's service cannot fail to interest us. What was this experience?" "Mon Dieu! monsieur le marquis--excuse me--it was like a ghost.--This is how it happened. I was waiting for monsieur le comte to return; the clock had struck twelve; as I did not know what to do to kill time, instead of standing still in front of the gate, I walked now and then along the walls on one side or the other--for the hôtel stands entirely by itself. That night, as I stopped at the end of the wall, behind the hôtel, a man suddenly appeared; I had neither heard nor seen him; it was as if he came out of the wall.--But imagine my terror; by his hairy cap and his olive-green cloak, I had no doubt that it was Giovanni the brigand, whom I had heard described so often; and then----" "It is all over! I will atone for everything!" cried Léodgard in a hoarse voice, roughly pushing Ambroisine aside, to approach Bathilde. "Monsieur le marquis, I surrender, I consent, I will marry Bathilde; I am ready to lead her to the altar!" It would be impossible to describe the effect of these words, which everyone was so far from expecting. The keenest delight was depicted on every face. Bathilde uttered a cry of joy. Landry went to his daughter and took her in his arms. Ambroisine and her father were in ecstasies. The old Marquis de Marvejols offered his son his hand as a sign of reconciliation. And no one thought to ask for the end of the adventure which the _belle baigneuse_ had begun to narrate. XXXVI A STRANGE CHOICE One beautiful day in spring, Valentine de Mongarcin sat in the salon where her aunt Madame de Ravenelle preferred to pass her time, amusing herself by picking out chords on her zither and singing the words of a new virelay.