"Brother, for the first time in my life I have kept a secret from you; brother, for the first time in my life I am about to resort to ruse and dissimulation." She then took me by the hand, led me to the niche, drew back the heavy curtain that closed it from sight, and added: "Every minute is precious; step into that niche; remain there silent, motionless, and lose not a word of all that you shall hear. I hide you in time in order to remove suspicion." The curtains of the niche closed upon me; I remained in the dark; for a while I heard only Victoria's steps over the floor as she walked the room in evident agitation. I was in my hiding place for over half an hour when I heard the door of Victoria's room open and close. Someone stepped in and said: "Greeting to Victoria the Great!" It was Tetrik's voice, the same mellifluous and insinuating voice. The following conversation took place between him and Victoria. As she recommended to me, I engraved every word in my memory, and that same day I transcribed them, realizing the gravity of the dialogue. Another circumstance which I shall presently inform you of dictated the precaution to me. "Greeting to Victoria the Great," said the former Governor of Gascony. "Greeting to you, Tetrik." "Did the night bring counsel, Victoria?" "Tetrik," answered Victoria in a perfectly calm voice that was in strong contrast with the agitation under which I had just seen her laboring, "Tetrik, you are a poet?" "It is true--I sometimes seek in the cultivation of letters a little recreation from the cares of state--especially from my undying sorrow over the untimely departure of our glorious Victorin, whom, contrary to my expectations, I have survived. I must repeat it to you, Victoria, let us not speak of that young hero, whom I loved with the deep love of a father. I had two sons; I have only one left to me.--I am a poet, say you? Alas! Fain would I be one of those geniuses who render immortal the heroes of their songs--Victorin would then live in all posterity as he lives in the hearts of those who knew and mourn for him! But why do you broach the subject of verses? Have they any connection with the subject that brings me back to you this morning?" "Like all poets--you surely read your verses many times over in order to correct them--and then you forget them, if the term can be used, to the end that when you read them over anew, you may be struck all the more forcibly by anything that may hurt your eyes or ears." "Certes, after having written some ode under the inspiration of the moment, it has sometimes happened to me that, as the saying is, I let my verses sleep for several months, and then, reading them over again, was shocked at things that had at first escaped me. But poetry is not the question before us."