“Ah, Monsieur,” she returned, looking serenely upon him, “when one has all the winning cards in hand and yet loses the stake, we allot him un pavilion chinois"—­which was the polite way of dubbing him Court Fool.

The Baron’s eyes fell.  Vexation and alarm were visible on his contracted brow.  He stood in meditation for some time.  It must have been evident to him that Delphine knew of the recent occurrences,—­that here in Paris she could denounce him as the agent of a felony, the participant of a theft.  What might prevent it?  Plainly but one thing:  no woman would denounce her husband.  He had scarcely contemplated this step on arrival.

The guests were again scattered in groups round the room.  I examined an engraving on an adjacent table.  Delphine reclined as lazily in a fauteuil as if her life did not hang in the balance.  The Baron drew near.

“Mademoiselle,” said he, “you allotted me just now a cap and bells.  If two should wear it?—­if I should invite another into my pavilion chinois?—­if I should propose to complete an alliance, desired by my father, with the ancient family of St. Cyr?—­if, in short, Mademoiselle, I should request you to become my wife?”

“Eh, bien, Monsieur,—­and if you should?” I heard her coolly reply.

But it was no longer any business of mine.  I rose and sought Mme. de St. Cyr, who, I thought, was slightly uneasy, perceiving some mystery to be afloat.  After a few words, I retired.

Archimedes, as perhaps you have never heard, needed only a lever to move the world.  Such a lever I had put into the hands of Delphine, with which she might move, not indeed the grand globe, with its multiplied attractions, relations, and affinities, but the lesser world of circumstances, of friends and enemies, the circle of hopes, fears, ambitions.  There is no woman, as I believe, but could have used it.

The next day was scarcely so quiet in the city as usual.  The great loan had not been negotiated.  Both the Baron Stahl and the English minister had left Paris,—­and there was a coup d’etat.

But the Baron did not travel alone.  There had been a ceremony at midnight in the Church of St. Sulpice, and her Excellency the Baroness Stahl, nee de St. Cyr, accompanied him.

It is a good many years since.  I have seen the diamond in the Duchess of X.’s coronet, at the drawing-room, often,—­but I have never seen Delphine.  The Marquis begged me to retain the chain, and I gave myself the pleasure of presenting it, through her mother, to the Baroness Stahl.  I hear, that, whenever she desires to effect any cherished object which the Baron opposes, she has only to wear this chain, and effect it.  It appears to possess a magical power, and its potent spell enslaves the Baron as the lamp and ring of Eastern tales enslaved the Afrites.