Paul could not for the life of him imagine why Tantaine had left the room in apparently so angry a mood.  He had certainly spoken of Flavia in a most improper manner; for the very weakness of which she had been guilty should have caused him to treat her with tender deference and respect.  He could understand the anger of Hortebise, who was Rigal’s friend; but what on earth had Tantaine in common with the wealthy banker and his daughter?  Forgetful of the pain which the smallest movement upon his part produced, Paul sat up in his bed, and listened with intense eagerness, hoping to catch what was going on in the next room; but he could hear nothing through the thick walls and the closed door.

“What can they be doing?” asked he.  “What fresh plot are they contriving?”

Daddy Tantaine and Hortebise passed out of the room hastily, but when they reached the staircase they stood still.  The doctor wore the same smiling expression of face, and he endeavored to calm his companion, who appeared to be on the verge of desperation.

“Have courage,” whispered he; “what is the use of giving way to passion?  You cannot help this; it is too late now.  Besides, even if you could, you would not, as you know very well, indeed!”

The old man was moving his spectacles, not to wipe his glasses, but his eyes.

“Ah!” moaned he, “now I can enter into the feelings of M. de Mussidan when I proved to him that his daughter had a lover.  I have been hard and pitiless, and I am cruelly punished.”

“My old friend, you must not attach too much importance to what you have heard.  Paul is a mere boy, and, of course, a boaster.”

“Paul is a miserably cowardly dog,” answered the old man in a fierce undertone.  “Paul does not love the girl as she loves him; but what he says is true, only too true, I can feel.  Between her father and her lover she would not hesitate for a moment.  Ah! unhappy girl, what a terrible future lies before her.”

He stopped himself abruptly.

“I cannot speak to her myself,” resumed he; “do you, doctor, strive and make her have reason.”

Hortebise shrugged his shoulders.  “I will see what my powers of oratory can do,” answered he; “but you are not quite yourself to-day.  Remember that a chance word will betray the secret of our lives.”

“Go at once, and I swear to you that, happen what may, I will be calm.”

The doctor went back into Paul’s room, while Tantaine sat down on the topmost stair, his face buried in his hands.

Mademoiselle Flavia was just going to Paul, when the doctor again appeared.

“What, back again?” asked she petulantly.  “I thought that you had been far away by this time.”

“I want to say something to you,” answered he, “and something of a rather serious nature.  You must not elevate those charming eyebrows.  I see you guess what I am going to say, and you are right.  I am come to tell you that this is not the proper place for Mademoiselle Rigal.”