“On the contrary, niece, he is a very well-behaved man.  I have invited him to come here very often, and play backgammon with me—­that is, to pay his addresses to you.”

Nathalie saw that the captain had gained her uncle’s heart, and she forgave him for having been less attentive to her.  He soon came again, and, thanks to the backgammon, increased in favor with the uncle.

He soon captivated the heart of the pretty widow, also.  One morning, Nathalie came blushing to her uncle.

“The captain has asked me to marry him.  What do you advise me to do?”

He reflected for a few moments.  “If she refuses him, D’Apremont will come here no longer, and then no more backgammon.  But if she marries him, he will be here always, and I shall have my games.”  And the answer was:  “You had better marry him.”

Nathalie loved Armand; but she would not yield too easily.  She sent for the captain.

“If you really love me—­”

“Ah, can you doubt it?”

“Hush! do not interrupt me.  If you really love me, you will give me one proof of it.”

“Anything you ask.  I swear—­”

“No, you must never swear any more; and, one thing more, you must never smoke.  I detest the smell of tobacco, and I will not have a husband who smokes.”

Armand sighed, and promised.

The first months of their marriage passed smoothly, but sometimes Armand became thoughtful, restless, and grave.  After some time, these fits of sadness became more frequent.

“What is the matter?” asked Nathalie one day, on seeing him stamp with impatience.  “Why are you so irritable?”

“Nothing—­nothing at all!” replied the captain, as if ashamed of his ill humor.

“Tell me,” Nathalie insisted, “have I displeased you in anything?”

The captain assured her that he had no reason to be anything but delighted with her conduct on all occasions, and for a time he was all right.  Then soon he was worse than before.

Nathalie was distressed beyond measure.  She imparted her anxiety to her uncle, who replied:  “Yes, my dear, I know what you mean; I have often remarked it myself, at backgammon.  He is very inattentive, and often passes his hand over his forehead, and starts up as if something agitated him.”

And one day, when his old habits of impatience and irritability reappeared, more marked than ever, the captain said to his wife:  “My dear, an evening walk will do me a world of good; an old sailor like myself cannot bear to sit around the house after dinner.  Nevertheless, if you have any objection—­”

“Oh, no!  What objection can I have?”

He went out, and continued to do so, day after day, at the same hour.  Invariably he returned in the best of good humor.

Nathalie was now unhappy indeed.  “He loves some other woman, perhaps,” she thought, “and he must see her every day.  Oh, how wretched I am!  But I must let him know that his perfidy is discovered.  No, I will wait until I shall have some certain proof wherewith to confront him.”