“Not at all! I thought it was only losing time to stop and ring; I gave my horse to l’Eveillé, I stood up on the saddle, climbed from that to the balcony, and, so that the man who was in the room might not escape, I shut the window. It was just at that moment that Madame Magloire, hearing the sound of your door opening, and overcome by such a succession of painful feelings, fell fainting into my arms.” “Ah! my lord!” said the Bailiff, “how frightful all this is that you tell me.” “And be sure, my dear friend, that I have rather softened than added to its terror; anyhow, you will hear what Madame Magloire has to tell you when she comes to....” “See, my lord, she is beginning to move.” “That’s right! burn a feather under her nose.” “A feather?” “Yes, it is a sovereign anti-spasmodic; burn a feather under her nose, and she will revive instantly.” “But where shall I find a feather?” asked the bailiff. “Here! take this, the feather round my hat.” And the lord of Vez broke off a bit of the ostrich feather which ornamented his hat, gave it to Monsieur Magloire, who lighted it at the candle and held it smoking under his wife’s nose. The remedy was a sovereign one, as the Baron had said; the effect of it was instantaneous; Madame Magloire sneezed. “Ah!” cried the bailiff delightedly, “now she is coming to! my wife! my dear wife! my dear little wife!” Madame Magloire gave a sigh. “My lord! my lord!” cried the bailiff, “she is saved! saved!” Madame Magloire opened her eyes, looked first at the Bailiff and then at the Baron, with a bewildered gaze, and then finally fixing them on the Bailiff: “Magloire! dear Magloire!” she said, “is it really you? Oh! how glad I am to see you again after the bad dream I have had!” “Well!” muttered Thibault, “she _is_ a brazen-faced huzzy, if you like! if I do not get all that I want from the ladies I run after, they, at least, afford me some valuable object lessons by the way!” “Alas! my beautiful Suzanne,” said the Bailiff, “it is no bad dream you have had, but, as it seems, a hideous reality.” “Ah! I remember now,” responded Madame Magloire. Then, as if noticing for the first time that the lord of Vez was there: “Ah! my lord,” she continued, “I hope you have repeated nothing to my husband of all those foolish things I told you?” “And why not, dear lady?” asked the Baron. “Because an honest woman knows how to protect herself, and has no need to keep on telling her husband a lot of nonsense like that.” “On the contrary, Madame,” replied the Baron, “I have told my friend everything.” “Do you mean that you have told him that during the whole of supper time that man was fondling my knee under the table?” “I told him that, certainly.” “Oh! the wretch!” exclaimed the Bailiff. “And that when I stooped to pick up my table napkin, it was not that, but his hand, that I came across.” “I have hidden nothing from my friend Magloire.” “Oh! the ruffian!” cried the Bailiff.