"Hold your tongue, madame," said Beausire.

"Yes," continued the blue domino, "where you were on the point of killing this poor lady, but stopped at the sight of some louis."

"Oh, I see; you and she have an understanding together."

"How can you say such a thing?" cried Oliva.

"And if it were so," said the stranger, "it is all for your benefit."

"For my benefit! that would be curious."

"I will prove to you that your presence here is as hurtful as your absence would be profitable. You are a member of a certain academy, not the Academie Francaise, but in the Rue du Pot au Fer, in the second story, is it not, my dear M. Beausire?"

"Hush!" said Beausire.

The blue domino drew out his watch, which was studded with diamonds that made Beausire's eyes water to look at them. "Well!" continued he, "in a quarter of an hour they are going to discuss there a little project, by which, they hope to secure 2,000,000 francs among the twelve members, of whom you are one, M. Beausire."

"And you must be another; if you are not----"

"Pray go on."

"A member of the police."

"Oh, M. Beausire, I thought you had more sense. If I were of the police, I should have taken you long ago, for some little affairs less honorable than this speculation."

"So, sir, you wish to send me to the Rue du Pot au Fer: but I know why--that I may be arrested there: I am not such a fool."

"Now, you are one. If I wanted to arrest you, I had only to do it, and I am rid of you at once; but gentleness and persuasion are my maxims."

"Oh, I know now," said Beausire, "you are the man that was on the sofa two hours ago."

"What sofa?"

"Never mind; you have induced me to go, and if you are sending a gallant man into harm, you will pay for it some day."

"Be tranquil," said the blue domino, laughing; "by sending you there, I give you 100,000 francs at least, for you know the rule of this society is, that whoever is absent loses his share."

"Well, then, good-by!" said Beausire, and vanished.

The blue domino took possession of Oliva's arm, left at liberty by Beausire.

"Now!" said she, "I have let you manage poor Beausire at your ease, but I warn you, you will find me not so easy to talk over; therefore, find something pretty to say to me, or----"

"I know nothing prettier than your own history, dear Mademoiselle Nicole," said he, pressing the pretty round arm of the little woman, who uttered a cry at hearing herself so addressed; but, recovering herself with marvelous quickness, said:

"Oh, mon Dieu! what a name! Is it I whom you call Nicole? If so, you are wrong, for that is not my name."

"At present I know that you call yourself Oliva, but we will talk afterwards of Oliva; at present I want to speak of Nicole. Have you forgotten the time when you bore that name? I do not believe it, my dear child, for the name that one bears as a young girl is ever the one enshrined in the heart, although one may have been forced to take another to hide the first. Poor Oliva, happy Nicole!"

"Why do you say 'Poor Oliva'? do you not think me happy?"

"It would be difficult to be happy with a man like Beausire."

Oliva sighed and said, "Indeed I am not."

"You love him, however."

"A little."

"If you do not love him much, leave him."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I should no sooner have done so than I should regret it."

"Do you think so?"

"I am afraid I should."

"What could you have to regret in a drunkard; a gambler, a man who beats you, and a black-leg, who will one day come to the gallows?"

"You would not understand me if I told you."

"Try."

"I should regret the excitement he keeps me in."

"I ought to have guessed it; that comes of pa.s.sing your youth with such silent people."

"You know about my youth?"

"Perfectly."

Oliva laughed and shook her head.

"You doubt it?"

"Really I do."

"Then we will talk a little about it, Mademoiselle Nicole."

"Very well; but I warn you, I will tell nothing."

"I do not wish it. I do not mean your childhood. I begin from the time when you first perceived that you had a heart capable of love."

"Love for whom?"