When the night came, Victor went away, leaving me quite uneasy, in spite of all his efforts to reassure me. I made him promise to return at an early hour. I was beginning to be anxious towards eleven, when all at once there was a sound of hasty footsteps. I sprang to the door—I opened it—it was he. As soon as he entered the room, I noticed he was extremely pale. He vainly endeavored to appear calm, but could not conceal the agitation that overpowered him. “Victor,” I cried, “something has happened!” “Yes, but not much. Somebody tried to frighten me.” “Are you wounded?” “No, they did not wish to take my life.” “I conjure you to tell me frankly what has happened.” “Well, here are the facts: I had left M. Beauvais’ house, where I was politely received, and had gone two streets, when I observed three men walking swiftly after me on the Place. They seemed well dressed, which removed my suspicions. I turned into the little Rue St. Augustine. It is dimly lighted in the evening and almost always deserted.” “How imprudent!” “That is true. I did wrong. I had scarcely gone a hundred yards, before the three men overtook me.” “‘Stop!’ exclaimed one of them. I stopped to ascertain what they wished. The same voice continued in these terms: ‘How much do those _calotins_ give you to defend them?’ “‘I have only one word to say in reply to your insulting question—I defend my own principles, above all because I cherish them in the depths of my soul.’ So saying, I sought to keep on my way. “One of them detained me. ‘Before going any further,’ said he who seemed to be the spokesman, ‘swear never to abuse the young men of this town again!’ “‘I attack no one individually,’ I replied. ‘Am I forbidden to defend my own cause because it is not yours?—But this is no time or place for such an interview. It should be at my office and by daylight. Come to see me to-morrow, and I will answer your questions.’ “The three men were so wrapped up in their bernouses and large comforters that I could not tell who they were. I thought it time to disengage myself from the grasp of the one that held me. I made a violent effort. In the struggle, my cloak fell off. As I stooped to pick it up, I received several blows. I then called for assistance. Several windows in the neighborhood opened. The three cowards disappeared. As you see, I am neither killed nor wounded. On the whole, no great harm has been done.” My whole frame trembled during this account. When it was ended, I became somewhat calmer, and, passionately throwing my arms around Victor, I begged him to promise me solemnly never to go out again in the evening. He did so willingly. CHAPTER VI. VICTOR AT THE POINT OF DEATH.