"She doesn't live here, then?" "No, sir; she lives with me." "Then I will escort her home. Angel! will you take my arm?" "Oh, yes, Monsieur, with great pleasure!" Leon gnashed his teeth. "This is admirable! He presumes on such familiarity, and she takes it all as a matter of course!" He went to get his hat, for the purpose of, at least, going home with the aunt, but his hat was not in its place; Fougas, who had not yet one of his own, had helped himself to it without ceremony. The poor lover crowded his head into a cap, and followed Fougas and Clementine, with the respectable Virginie, whose arm cut like a scythe. By an accident which happened almost daily, the Colonel of cuirassiers met Clementine on the way home. The young lady directed Fougas' attention to him. "That's M. du Marnet," said she. "His restaurant is at the end of our street, and his room at the side of the park. I think he is very much taken with my little self, but he has never even bowed to me. The only man for whom my heart has ever beaten is Leon Renault." "Ah, indeed! And me?" said Fougas. "Oh! as for you, that's another matter. I respect you, and stand in awe of you. It seems to me as if you were a good and respectable parent." "Thank you!" "I'm telling you the truth, as far as I can read it in my heart. All this is not very clear, I confess, but I do not understand myself." "Azure flower of innocence, I adore your sweet perplexity! Let love take care of itself; it will speak to you in master tones." "I don't know anything about that; it's possible! Here we are at home. Good evening, Monsieur; embrace me.--Good night, Leon; don't quarrel with M. Fougas. I love him with all my heart, but I love you in a different way!" The aunt Virginie made no response to the "Good evening" of Fougas. When the two men were alone in the street, Leon marched along without saying a word, till they reached the next lamp-post. There, planting himself resolutely opposite the Colonel, he said, "Well, sir, now that we are alone, we had better have an explanation. I don't know by what philter or incantation you have obtained such prodigious influence over my betrothed; but I know that I love her, that I have been loved by her more than four years, and that I will not stop at any means of retaining and protecting her." "Friend," answered Fougas, "you can brave me with impunity; my arm is chained by gratitude. It shall never be written in history that Pierre Fougas was an ingrate!" "Would it have been more ungrateful in you to cut my throat, than to rob me of my wife?"