"But, be reasonable, Jenny."

"Make this slight sacrifice for my sake, I implore you."

"But, Jenny, this is childish."

"Call it childishness, idiocy, what you will, but don't leave me this evening."

"Jenny, love, it breaks my heart to see you so unreasonable, for I am obliged to refuse you."

"Yvon--"

"It is absolutely necessary for me to show myself at this entertainment, though I need remain only a few moments."

"But, my dear Yvon--"

A flush of impatience mounted to Cloarek's brow, nevertheless he controlled himself, and said to his wife in the same affectionate though slightly reproachful tone:

"Such persistency on your part surprises me, Jenny. You know I am not in the habit of having to be begged. On the contrary, I have always endeavoured to antic.i.p.ate your wishes, so spare me the annoyance of being obliged to say 'no' to you for the first time in my life."

"Great Heavens!" exclaimed the now thoroughly distressed woman, "to think of your attaching so much importance to a mere pleasure--"

"Pleasure!" exclaimed Yvon, bitterly, his eyes kindling. Then restraining himself, he added:

"If it were a question of pleasure, you would not have been obliged to ask me but once, Jenny."

"But if you are not going for pleasure, why do you go at all?"

"I am going for appearance's sake," replied Yvon, promptly.

"In that case, can't you let appearances go, just this once, for my sake?"

"I must attend this entertainment, Jenny," said Yvon, whose face had become purple now; "I must and shall, so say no more about it."

"And I say that you shall not," exclaimed the young woman, unable to conceal her alarm any longer; "for there must be some grave reason that you are concealing from me to make you persist in refusing, when you are always so kind and affectionate to me."

"Jenny!" exclaimed Cloarek, stamping his foot, angrily, for this opposition was intensely exasperating to a person of his irascible nature, "not another word! Do you hear me? Not another word!"

"Listen to me, Yvon," said his wife, with dignity. "I shall resort to subterfuge no longer. It is unworthy of us both. I am afraid, yes, afraid for you to go to this fete, for I have been told that your presence there might cause trouble."

"Who told you that? who said that? Answer me!" cried Cloarek, in a more and more angry tone, and so loudly that the child in the crib woke. "Why should you feel afraid? You have heard something, then, I suppose."

"There is something, then, Yvon," cried the poor woman, more and more alarmed. "There is some terrible thing that you are keeping from me!"

Yvon remained silent and motionless for a moment, for a violent struggle was going on in his breast, but calmness and reason finally conquered, and approaching his wife to kiss her before going out, he said:

"I shall return almost immediately, Jenny. You will not have to wait for me long."

But the young woman hastily sprang up, and, before her husband could make a movement to prevent it, she had run to the door, locked it, and removed the key; then turning to Yvon, she said, with all the energy of despair:

"You shall not leave this room. We will see if you dare to come and take this key from me."

Utterly stupefied at first, then exasperated beyond expression by Jenny's determined action, he gave way to his anger to such an extent that his features became unrecognisable. The flush that had suffused his face was succeeded by a livid pallor, his eyes became bloodshot, and, advancing threateningly toward his wife, he exclaimed, in a terrible voice:

"The key! give me the key!"

"No, I will save you in spite of yourself," replied Jenny, intrepidly.

"Wretch!" cried Cloarek, now completely beside himself.

The young woman had never been the object of her husband's anger before in her life, so it is impossible to convey any idea of the horror she experienced on seeing him ready to rush upon her. Terrified by his ferocious, bloodthirsty look, in which there seemed to be not even the slightest gleam of recognition, she remained for a moment trembling and motionless, feeling as if she were about to swoon. Suddenly the little girl, who had been awakened several minutes before by the loud talking, parted the curtains of her crib and looked out. Not recognising her father, and mistaking him for a stranger, as she had never before seen him in such a costume, she uttered a shrill cry of terror, and exclaimed:

"Oh, mamma, the black man! the black man!"

"The key! give me the key!" repeated Cloarek, in thunder tones, taking another step toward his wife, who, slipping the key in her bosom, ran to the crib and caught her child in her arms, while the little girl, more and more terrified, hid her face on her mother's breast, sobbing:

"Oh, that black man, that black man, he means to kill mamma!"

"To take this key from me, you will have to tear my child from my arms,"

said the frail but courageous woman.

"You don't know that I am capable of anything when I am angry,"

exclaimed the unfortunate man, aroused to such a pitch of fury as to be blind and deaf to the most sacred sentiments. As he spoke, he rushed toward his wife in such a frenzied, menacing manner that the unfortunate woman, believing herself lost, strained her little daughter to her breast, and, bowing her head, cried:

"Spare, oh, spare my child!"

This cry of agony and of maternal despair penetrated to the innermost depths of Yvon's soul. He stopped short, then quicker than thought he turned, and, with a strength that his fury rendered irresistible, dashed himself against the door with such impetuosity that it gave way.

On hearing the sound, Madame Cloarek raised her head in even greater terror, for her child was in convulsions, caused by fright, and seemed likely to die in her arms.

"Help!" faltered Jenny, faintly. "Help, Yvon, our child is dying!"

A despairing cry answered these panting words uttered by Jenny, who felt that she, too, was dying, for in this delicate woman's critical condition such a shock was almost certain to prove fatal.

"Yvon, our child is dying!"

Cloarek, who was still only a few yards off, heard these lamentable words. The horror of the thought that his child was dying dispelled his anger as if by magic, and, rushing wildly back into his wife's room, he saw her still standing by the crib, but already as livid as a spectre.

With a supreme effort Jenny extended her arms to place her child in her husband's hands, faltering:

"Take her, I am dying," and without another word fell heavily at the feet of Cloarek, who, with his child strained to his breast, stood as if dazed, hearing nothing, seeing nothing.

CHAPTER V.

DEADLY ENMITY.