“I see you are not convinced, because the dog that bit me is so shapely, and graceful and wears so silky a coat!  Such dogs are mad and their bite in the heart is fatal and agonizing unless one at once applies the white hot cautery.  The seam remains—­from time to time it aches—­but the victim’s life is saved that he may save, serve, gladden his fellow men.  Would you rather I should weep, or force a smile, and appear happy for a period?  In any case, since I have cured the injury and she is in my house again, I shall not retaliate on her.  But if she threatens to become a public danger—­if she bares her poisonous fangs to harm my friend—­my son—­another—­let her beware!”

“Master,” stammered Antonino, beginning to see the temptress in the new light, as Felix had often shown him other objects to which he had been blind, “you may or may not judge her too harshly, but you certainly judge me too leniently.  Better to let me go away, and far, or at least, since you began the revelation, make the evidence complete of your trust and esteem.”

Clemenceau saw that the young man still believed in Cesarine, but he did not care to tell him all he knew of her.  Had he been told that she had encouraged Gratian to flee with her and had abandoned him at the first danger, without lifting a finger to save him, or her voice to procure him succor, he might loathe and hate her; but Clemenceau meant to say nothing.  Such revelations, and denunciations are permissible alone to wrath, revenge, or despair, in the man whose heart is still bleeding from the wound made in it so that his outburst is sealed by his blood.

“No, Antonino, by my mouth no one shall ever know all that woman has done—­or what victories I have won over myself—­in severe wrestlings.”

“I see you have forgiven her,” said the Italian, advancing the virtue in which he was deficient.

“I have expunged her from my heart,” answered Clemenceau firmly.  “She is a picture on only one page of my life-book, and I do not open it there.  Knowing my secret, you are the last person to whom I shall speak of Cesarine’s misdeeds.  I wish your deliverance, like mine, to be owed to your will, but you are free and have been forewarned, so that you will have less effort to make than I. Let the scarlet woman go by and do not step across her path.  Between two smiles, she will dishonor you or deal death to you!  She slays like a dart of Satan.  That is all you need know.  But, as, indeed, you deserve a token of esteem and confidence from your frankness, affection and labors, I will give you one.”

Having seated himself, he drew from an inner pocket a paper written in odd characters.