"The case was delicate," said the good father, with the air of a philosopher meditating on the most abstruse subject; "but I am not wanting in judgment, and I drew out of the affair with honor." "You managed admirably," cried I, looking at him with admiration; then immediately putting on a serious face, "but the sin is enormous." The third day after, Gilbert didn't wait for the bell to ring for dinner before going down to the great hall. He was not very much surprised to find Stephane there. Leaning with his back against the sideboard, the young man, on seeing him appear, lost his composure, blushed, and turned his head towards the wall. Gilbert stopped a few steps from him. Then in an agitated manner, and with a voice at once gentle and abrupt, he said: "And your arm?" "It is nearly well. To-morrow I shall take off my sling." Stephane was silent for a moment. Then in a still lower voice: "What do you mean to do?" murmured he; "what are your plans?" "I wait to know your good pleasure," replied Gilbert. The young man covered his eyes with both hands, and, as Gilbert said no more, he seemed to feel a thrill of impatience and vexation. "His pride demands some mercy," thought Gilbert. "I will spare him the mortification of making the first advances." "I should like very much to have a conversation with you," said he gently. "This cannot be upon the terrace, Ivan will not leave you alone there. Does he keep you company in your room in the evening?" "Are you jesting?" answered Stephane, raising his head. "After nine o'clock Ivan never comes near my room." "And his room, if I am not mistaken," answered Gilbert, "is separated from you by a corridor and a staircase. So we shall run no risk of being overheard." Stephane turned towards him and looked him in the face. "You think of everything," said he, with a smile, sad and ironical. "Apparently, to reach me, you will be obliged to mount a swallow. Have you made your arrangements with one?" "I shall come over the roofs," said Gilbert quietly. "Impossible!" cried Stephane. "In the first place, I do not wish you to risk your life for me again. And then--" "And then you do not care for my visit?" Stephane only answered him by a look. At this moment steps sounded in the vestibule. When the Count entered, Gilbert was pacing the further end of the hall, and Stephane, with his back turned, was attentively observing one of the carved figures upon the wainscoting. M. Leminof, stopping at the threshold of the door, looked at them both with a quizzical air. "It was time for me to arrive," said he, laughing. "This is an embarrassing tete-a-tete." XIV