The General's eyes nearly started out of his head, and a profuse perspiration collected on his brow. An awful horror seized him, and his chest heaved with convulsive emotion. "My God! to think it has come to this! My only son, the pride of my heart, the heir to all my property, the sole survivor of my family, and to end in disgrace like this," and burying his face in his hands, he sobbed convulsively. Emile toyed with his hat more nervously than ever, and watched the General intently not to miss the effect which his speech had on him. At length after a painful pause that seemed interminable, Duval stood up, and fastened his eyes with a searching gaze on Emile, while his face twitched convulsively, and assumed a look which terrified him almost out of his wits. "What were you doing in Delapine's house to overhear this conversation? Were you invited there?" "Oh! no, mon Général. I was paid by M. Pierre to watch the house and bring him all the news I could glean." The General's feelings were working up to the boiling point, and his fury was passing beyond all his powers of control. Emile was on the point of making a bolt for it, but the furious gleam of Duval's eyes rooted him to the spot. "You infernal sneak, you vile informer, you--you miserable reptile," said the General, with a look of withering contempt on his face, his voice rising in pitch until it almost ended in a shriek, "out with you before I shoot you dead," and suiting his actions to his words, he opened a drawer and pulled out a large army revolver. But Emile did not wait for Duval to raise the weapon. Before the General had time to cock it, Emile had already bolted out of the room, and hurrying down the stairs, ran out of the front gate as fast as his legs could carry him. Duval rushed after him and fired several shots, but his wounded arm prevented him from taking a steady aim, and Emile was speedily out of range. The General returned to his room, and lay down on the sofa in a state of complete exhaustion. Nearly half an hour had elapsed before he was sufficiently recuperated to ring the bell and order the carriage to be got ready. He slowly went upstairs, and put on his uniform assisted by his valet. "Buckle on my sword as well, Robert, I don't feel my real self without my trusty sword and revolver." Robert appeared terribly scared at the appearance of his master, but knew him too well to venture on any remark, or to let him perceive that he saw it. "You need not wait up for me, Robert," he said in a calm and measured voice which presented a marked contrast to his previous excited and furious tones, and now bore traces of strong determination mingled with unutterable sadness. "I don't like to say so, Robert, but I feel somehow that I may be addressing you for the last time. You will have no reason to forget me, Robert, you have been a faithful servant to me, and I have not forgotten you in my will."