"I will ask Paul to show me that pass," said Philip. He leaned back in his chair and laughed softly. A moment later he had resumed his interrupted discussion with De Bergeret. Afterwards Saint-Dantin took him aside. "Philippe, I would not have had that happen at my table! Charles is incorrigible!" "On the contrary, I am grateful to him," replied Philip. "I might not have heard else. Now I will shut that fellow's mouth." "How?" asked Saint-Dantin blankly. Philip made an imaginary pass in the air. "Short of killing him," objected Saint-Dantin, "I don't see--" "Kill him? Not I! I may count on you to--uphold me?" "Of course. But what do you mean to do?" "First I will reverse the tables. I will punish him. Then I will assure him that my friends will espouse my cause if he again mentions my lady's name in public." Saint-Dantin nodded. "I'll vouch for those here to-night." "Wait! Any mention of her name will be reported to me, and I shall send François to administer a little beating. It is well." The Comte laughed outright. "Oh, Philippe, thou art a young hot-head! Is this Cleone of so great account?" Philip drew himself up. "She is the lady whom I hope one day to make my wife." "_Comment?_ Your wife? _Ah, voyons! Cela change l'affaire!_ I did not know that. Stop his talk, by all means." "It's what I am going to do," said Philip. "_Scélérat!_" "With a vile taste for pink, _hein_? You'll call upon me?" "If you please. And, I think, De Bergeret." "Saint-Dantin, a wager!" called De Vangrisse. "What are you talking of so earnestly?" "Of pink coats," answered Philip. "Oh, my rondeau! Where is it?" "Devil take your rondeau!" cried the Vicomte. "Come and hazard a throw with me." "_A l'instant!_" Philip untied the ribbon about his rondeau and spread out the parchment. "I insist that you shall listen to this product of my brain!" He mounted a chair amid derisive cheers, and bowed right and left in mock solemnity. "To the Pearl that Trembles in her Ear. "_Cette petite perle qui tremblotte_ _Au bout ton oreille, et qui chuchotte_ _Je ne sais quoi de tendre et de malin._ _A l'air à la fois modeste et coquin,_ _Si goguenarde est elle et si dévote._ "_A regarder c'est toute une gavotte_ _Où l'on s'avance, se penche, et pivote,_ _Lors que tu branles d'un movement fin_ _Cette petite perle._ "_C'est une étoile dans le ciel qui flotte--_ _Un vif éclair qui luit dans une grotte--_ _Un feu follet qui hors de mon chemin_ _M'attire, m'éblouit, m'égare--_" Philip paused for his final effect. Arose Saint-Dantin, and like a flash interjected: "_Enfin,_ _Elle m'embête--saperlipopette!--_ _Cette petite perle._" Outraged, Philip threw the parchment at his head. Nine Mr. Bancroft Is Enraged