“Without a doubt, mere imagination and pretence.” “Pretence! Ah, you think so? Pretence! Ah, well, you will see. Do not think you can take me with your cajoleries. I know them,--crocodile tears.” “Do not say that, Luquin. I am going to force you to get on your knees before me and ask my pardon for your stupid jealousy.” “I, on my knees! I, ask your pardon! Ah, that would be pretty! Ah, ah, I on my knees before you!” “On both knees, if you please.” “Ah, ah, the idea is a pleasant one, on my word!” “Come, come, this very instant,--here, on this spot.” “Mademoiselle, you are crazy.” “M. Luquin, in your own interest, do it now, I pray you.” “Fiddlesticks!” “Take care.” “Ta, la, la, la, la,” said the captain, singing between his teeth, and keeping time by rising on his toes and falling back on his heels. “Once, twice, will you get on your knees and ask my pardon for your stupid jealousy?” “I would rather, you can understand, strangle myself with my own hands.” “Luquin, you know that when I wish a thing, I wish it. If you refuse what I ask, I will be the one to say good-bye to you. And I will not come back, either, remember that.” “Go, go; perhaps you will meet the Bohemian on the way.” Stephanette did not answer a word, but turned around abruptly and walked away. Luquin was very brave for a few moments, then his courage failed him, and at last, seeing that the young girl walked with a firm, resolute step, he followed her and called, in a supplicating voice: “Stephanette!” The young girl walked faster. “Stephanette, Stephanette, do be reasonable, you know very well that I love you.” Stephanette continued to walk. “A thousand devils! Is it possible for me to ask your pardon for my jealousy, when I have seen that--” Stephanette quickened her step. “Stephanette, ah, well, come now, in truth you bewitch me. You make me do all that you wish.” Stephanette slackened her step a little. “To come to the point, no, a thousand times no, I am weaker than a child.” Stephanette began to run. The captain of _The Holy Terror to the Moors_ was obliged to exercise his long, heron-like legs to catch up with her, as he said, with a stifled voice, “Ah, well, come now, diabolical creature that you are,--one must do as you wish,--here I am on my knees,--only stop a moment. Ah, well, yes, I was wrong. Are you satisfied? Is it possible to be so base?” murmured Luquin, in parenthesis; then he said, aloud: “Ah, well, yes, I was wrong to be jealous of--of--But at least stop, will you not? I cannot run after you on my knees. I was wrong, I tell you.” Stephanette slackened her gait a little, then stopped still, and said to Luquin, without turning her head: “On your knees.” “Well, I am; I am on my knees. Fortunately for my dignity as a man, that corner of the wall hides me from the eyes of that old gossip of a majordomo,” said Luquin to himself. “Repeat after me.” “Yes, but do turn your head, Stephanette, so I can see you; that will give me courage.”