And the sleeve of her dress, slipping up a little, showed on her left wrist a bracelet adorned with three opals.

Frederick noticed it.

"Look here! why----"

All three looked into one another's faces, and reddened.

The door was cautiously half-opened; the brim of a hat could be seen, and then Hussonnet's profile exhibited itself.

"Pray excuse me if I disturb the lovers!"

But he stopped, astonished at seeing Cisy, and that Cisy had taken his own seat.

Another cover was brought; and, as he was very hungry, he s.n.a.t.c.hed up at random from what remained of the dinner some meat which was in a dish, fruit out of a basket, and drank with one hand while he helped himself with the other, all the time telling them the result of his mission. The two bow-wows had been taken home. Nothing fresh at the house. He had found the cook in the company of a soldier--a fict.i.tious story which he had especially invented for the sake of effect.

The Marechale took down her cloak from the window-screw. Frederick made a rush towards the bell, calling out to the waiter, who was some distance away:

"A carriage!"

"I have one of my own," said the Vicomte.

"But, Monsieur!"

"Nevertheless, Monsieur!"

And they stared into each other's eyes, both pale and their hands trembling.

At last, the Marechale took Cisy's arm, and pointing towards the Bohemian seated at the table:

"Pray mind him! He's choking himself. I wouldn't care to let his devotion to my pugs be the cause of his death."

The door closed behind him.

"Well?" said Hussonnet.

"Well, what?"

"I thought----"

"What did you think?"

"Were you not----?"

He completed the sentence with a gesture.

"Oh! no--never in all my life!"

Hussonnet did not press the matter further.

He had an object in inviting himself to dinner. His journal,--which was no longer called _L'Art_, but _Le Flambart_,[14] with this epigraph, "Gunners, to your cannons!"--not being at all in a flourishing condition, he had a mind to change it into a weekly review, conducted by himself, without any a.s.sistance from Deslauriers. He again referred to the old project and explained his latest plan.

[Footnote 14: _The Blaser._]

Frederick, probably not understanding what he was talking about, replied with some vague words. Hussonnet s.n.a.t.c.hed up several cigars from the tables, said "Good-bye, old chap," and disappeared.

Frederick called for the bill. It had a long list of items; and the waiter, with his napkin under his arm, was expecting to be paid by Frederick, when another, a sallow-faced individual, who resembled Martinon, came and said to him:

"Beg pardon; they forgot at the bar to add in the charge for the cab."

"What cab?"

"The cab the gentleman took a short time ago for the little dogs."

And the waiter put on a look of gravity, as if he pitied the poor young man. Frederick felt inclined to box the fellow's ears. He gave the waiter the twenty francs' change as a _pour-boire_.

"Thanks, Monseigneur," said the man with the napkin, bowing low.