“I hope as much.  To pass for mad in the eyes of fools is very flattering.”

“Yes; but to prove to fools that they are fools, and that in the face of all Paris, is much more amusing.  Now, people begin to talk of your absence; you have given up your daily rides; for some time my niece has appeared alone in our box at the Opera; you wish to kill the time till to-morrow—­well! here is an excellent opportunity.  It is two o’clock; at halfpast three, my niece will come in the carriage; the weather is splendid; there is sure to be a crowd in the Bois de Boulogne.  You can take a delightful ride, and be seen by everybody.  Then, as the air and movement will have calmed your fever of happiness, I will commence my magic this evening, and take you to India.”

“To India?”

“Into the midst of one of those wild forests, in which roar the lion, the panther, and the tiger.  We will have this heroic combat, which so moved you just now, under our own eyes, in all its terrible reality.”

“Really, my dear count, you must be joking.”

“Not at all; I promise to show you real wild beasts, formidable tenants of the country of our demigod—­growling tigers—­roaring lions—­do you not think that will be better than books?”

“But how?”

“Come!  I must give you the secret of my supernatural power.  On returning from your ride, you shall dine with my niece, and we will go together to a very curious spectacle now exhibiting at the Porte-Saint-Martin Theatre.  A most extraordinary lion-tamer there shows you a number of wild beasts, in a state of nature, in the midst of a forest (here only commences the illusion), and has fierce combats with them all—­tigers, lions, and panthers.  All Paris is crowding to these representations, and all Paris will see you there, more charming than ever.”

“I accept your offer,” said Adrienne, with childish delight.  “Yes, you are right.  I feel a strange pleasure in beholding these ferocious monsters, who will remind me of those that my demi-god so heroically overcame.  I accept also, because, for the first time in my life, I am anxious to be admired—­even by everybody.  I accept finally because—­” Here Mdlle. de Cardoville was interrupted by a low knock at the door, and by the entrance of Florine, who announced M. Rodin.

CHAPTER X.

The execution.

Rodin entered.  A rapid glance at Mdlle. de Cardoville and M. de Montbron told him at once that he was in a dilemma.  In fact, nothing could be less encouraging than the faces of Adrienne and the count.  The latter, when he disliked people, exhibited his antipathy, as we have already said, by an impertinently aggressive manner, which had before now occasioned a good number of duels.  At sight of Rodin, his countenance at once assumed a harsh and insolent expression; resting his elbow on the chimney-piece, and conversing with