“No doubt”--Angélique's nostril quivered with a fine disdain--“the hospitality of Beaumanoir is as broad and comprehensive as its master's admiration for our sex!” said she. Bigot was not angry. He gave a loud laugh. “You women are merciless upon each other, Mademoiselle!” said he. “Men are more merciless to women when they beguile us with insincere professions,” replied she, rising up in well-affected indignation. “Not so, Mademoiselle!” Bigot began to feel annoyed. “That lady is nothing to me,” said he, without rising as she had done. He kept his seat. “But she has been! you have loved her at some time or other! and she is now living on the scraps and leavings of former affection. I am never deceived, Chevalier!” continued she, glancing down at him, a wild light playing under her long eyelashes like the illumined under-edge of a thundercloud. “But how in St. Picot's name did you arrive at all this knowledge, Mademoiselle?” Bigot began to see that there was nothing for it but to comply with every caprice of this incomprehensible girl if he would carry his point. “Oh, nothing is easier than for a woman to divine the truth in such matters, Chevalier,” said she. “It is a sixth sense given to our sex to protect our weakness: no man can make love to two women but each of them knows instinctively to her finger-tips that he is doing it.” “Surely woman is a beautiful book written in golden letters, but in a tongue as hard to understand as hieroglyphics of Egypt.” Bigot was quite puzzled how to proceed with this incomprehensible girl. “Thanks for the comparison, Chevalier,” replied she, with a laugh. “It would not do for men to scrutinize us too closely, yet one woman reads another easily as a horn-book of Troyes, which they say is so easy that the children read it without learning.” To boldly set at defiance a man who had boasted a long career of success was the way to rouse his pride, and determine him to overcome her resistance. Angélique was not mistaken. Bigot saw her resolution, and, although it was with a mental reservation to deceive her, he promised to banish Caroline from his château. “It was always my good fortune to be conquered in every passage of arms with your sex, Angélique,” said he, at once radiant and submissive. “Sit down by me in token of amity.” She complied without hesitation, and sat down by him, gave him her hand again, and replied with an arch smile, while a thousand inimitable coquetries played about her eyes and lips, “You speak now like an amant magnifique, Chevalier! “'Quelque fort qu'on s'en defende, Il y faut venir un jour!'” “It is a bargain henceforth and forever, Angélique!” said he; “but I am a harder man than you imagine: I give nothing for nothing, and all for everything. Will you consent to aid me and the Grand Company in a matter of importance?”