He rose, and walked about the room.

“Yes, I will struggle; I will recover my strength, like Antaeus, from a fall; I will strangle with my own hands the serpents that entwine me, that kiss with serpent kisses, that slaver my cheeks, that suck my blood, my honor!  Oh, misery! oh, poverty!  Oh, how great are they who can stand erect and carry high their heads!  I had better have let myself die of hunger, there, on my wretched pallet, three and a half years ago!  A coffin is a softer bed to lie in than the life I lead!  It is eighteen months that I have fed on bourgeois! and now, at the moment of attaining an honest, fortunate life, a magnificent future, at the moment when I was about to sit down to the social banquet, the executioner strikes me on the shoulder!  Yes, the monster! he struck me there, on my shoulder, and said to me:  ’Pay thy dues to the devil, or die!’ And shall I not crush them?  Shall I not force my arm down their throats to their very entrails?  Yes, yes, I will, I will!  See, Flavie, my eyes are dry now.  Ha, ha! now I laugh; I feel my strength come back to me; power is mine!  Oh! say that you love me; say it again!  At this moment it sounds like the word ‘Pardon’ to the man condemned to death!”

“You are terrible, my friend!” cried Flavie.  “Oh! you are killing me.”

She understood nothing of all this, but she fell upon the sofa, exhausted by the spectacle.  Theodose flung himself at her feet.

“Forgive me! forgive me!” he said.

“But what is the matter? what is it?” she asked again.

“They are trying to destroy me.  Oh! promise to give me Celeste, and you shall see what a glorious life I will make you share.  If you hesitate—­very good; that is saying you will be wholly mine, and I will have you!”

He made so rapid a movement that Flavie, terrified, rose and moved away.

“Oh! my saint!” he cried, “at thy feet I fall—­a miracle!  God is for me, surely!  A flash of light has come to me—­an idea—­suddenly!  Oh, thanks, my good angel, my grand Saint-Theodose! thou hast saved me!”

Flavie could not help admiring that chameleon being; one knee on the floor, his hands crossed on his breast, and his eyes raised to heaven in religious ecstasy, he recited a prayer; he was a fervent Catholic; he reverently crossed himself.  It was fine; like the vision of Saint-Jerome.

“Adieu!” he said, with a melancholy look and a moving tone of voice.

“Oh!” cried Flavie, “leave me this handkerchief.”

Theodose rushed away like one possessed, sprang into the street, and darted towards the Thuilliers’, but turned, saw Flavie at her window, and made her a little sign of triumph.

“What a man!” she thought to herself.

“Dear, good friend,” he said to Thuillier, in a calm and gentle, almost caressing voice, “we have fallen into the hands of atrocious scoundrels.  But I mean to read them a lesson.”