Glancing around at those present, and recognizing Marcel he affected a joyful surprise. “Ah! Monsieur Baradier! I am delighted to meet you. We have had a great deal of trouble since last I saw you. I heard all about it on my return to call for my sister. I greatly regretted not being able to stay and tell you how sorry we felt for you. You were so kind and gracious to us in that quiet country place.” He spoke without the slightest hesitation, and with a boldness which stupefied Marcel. As he looked at Agostini he wondered whether he were not dreaming—whether this calm, phlegmatic person speaking to him at this charity bazaar in the heart of Paris, without even thinking of escape, was indeed the man he suspected of having mystified him at Ars, of being, doubtless, the accomplice of murderers and incendiaries; at the very least in collusion with this enigmatical woman whose memory still filled his heart. He listened with astonishment, and replied— “And your sister, Madame Vignola?” “Ah! Poor Anetta!” interrupted Cesare. “She is at Venice, engaged in troublesome family affairs. But she will probably come to Paris this summer to assist at my marriage.” “Ah! You are about to be married, Count?” “Yes, M. Lichtenbach has given his consent at last.” This news of the marriage of Agostini into the Lichtenbach family produced an electric effect. Marcel immediately regained full possession of his faculties. Looking at the Italian from head to foot, he said ironically— “Ah! you are about to enter the family of M. Lichtenbach. It was to be, and it would have been a pity could it not have taken place!” “I do not understand very well,” replied Cesare. “Yes, you understand perfectly. And if you wish further information ask for it from your sister.” “These are strange words,” said the Italian, arrogantly. “Every one does as well as he can; all men have not the privilege of being strange in their actions.” Agostini was about to reply, and the two men stood threateningly in front of one another, when a hand was laid on the Italian’s arm, and the voice of Mademoiselle Lichtenbach was heard saying— “Monsieur le Comte, will you come this way, please? My father is looking for you.” Cesare gave Marcel a defiant glance. Then, turning with flattering humility to the young girl, he said— “Your slightest wish shall be obeyed, mademoiselle. But I shall see this gentleman again, and—” “I forbid you!” “Very good.” Lichtenbach came up to them. He passed in front of Graff, without appearing to see him. “What is this they are telling me, Count?” he said, addressing Agostini. “You have been bidding up to four thousand francs for the contents of this stall? What a trifling sum! You must have had some very sorry competitors against you!” An expression of disdain came over his face as he looked round on Marcel and Uncle Graff. “Formerly my opponents were more tenacious. The struggle for gold has considerably cooled them down.”