Having recovered all his lucidity of thought, and reflecting that he was not one of those patrons who assisted the poor by purchasing a card of admission, Michel determined to abstain from watching the fête and to walk about alone in some quiet corner of the palace until he felt absolutely calm and disposed to go home and to bed. His reason had returned, but the fatigue of the preceding days had left a touch of feverish excitement in his blood and in his nerves. He bent his steps toward the Casino, whence he could go out upon the natural terraces of the mountain. The whole of that magnificent abode was illuminated and adorned with flowers; the public were allowed free access to every part; but, after once making the tour of the upper floors, the crowd ceased to go thither. The bulk of the spectacle, the dancing, music, bustle, youth and love, were below, in the great temporary ball-room. No one remained in the upper galleries, on the graceful staircases, or in the vast apartments, save an occasional majestic or mysterious group of solemn personages discussing affairs of state, or great coquettes collecting and detaining by their refined conversation certain chosen men around their chairs. Toward midnight all those who had not a direct interest in the affair, or were not enjoying themselves, took their leave, and, the concourse becoming less numerous, the fête was more enjoyable and more beautiful to the eye. Michel reached the princess's aërial garden by a small secret staircase. At that elevation the breeze was very cool, and he felt exceedingly refreshed and comfortable as he sat on the top step of that staircase, near a fragrant flower-bed. The garden was deserted. Through the silver gauze curtains he could see the interior of the princess's apartments, also deserted. But Michel was not long alone; Magnani joined him. Magnani was one of the handsomest young men among the mechanics of the city. He was industrious, intelligent, high-spirited, and honest. Michel did not attempt to combat the friendly feeling he inspired, and in his company forgot the embarrassment and distrust which he had felt from the beginning with all the workmen with whom his father's position had compelled him to associate. He suffered, poor boy, after years of leisure, to be thrown with young men who were inclined to be a little rough and noisy, who reproached him for looking down on them, and whom he made vain efforts to look upon as his equals. He confessed everything to Magnani, whom he saw to be the most intelligent of them all, and in whose hearty outspokenness there was nothing offensive or tyrannical. He confided to him all the ambitions, all the weaknesses, all the intoxicating emotions, all the sufferings, in a word, all the little secrets of his young heart. Magnani understood him, excused him and talked sensibly to him.