“She arose as she heard my name announced; without speaking or laying down her work, she pointed to a chair and seated herself; but instead of obeying her, I fell upon my knees before her and seized her hands, which she did not withdraw.  It had been impossible for me to say another word to her before, save ‘I love you!’ I now told her of all my love.  Oh!  I am sure of it, my words penetrated to the very depth of her heart, for I felt her hands tremble as they left mine.  She listened without interrupting me or making any reply, with her face bent toward me as if she were breathing the perfume of a flower.  When I begged her to answer me, when I implored her for one single word from her heart, she withdrew one of her hands, imprisoned within mine, and placed it upon my forehead, pushing back my head with a gesture familiar to women.  She gazed at me thus for a long time; her eyes were so languishing under their long lashes, and their languor was so penetrating, that I closed mine, not being able to endure the fascination of this glance any longer.

“A shiver which ran over her and which went through me also, like an electric shock, aroused me.  When I opened my eyes I saw her face bathed in tears.  She drew back and repelled me.  I arose impetuously, seated myself by her side and took her in my arms.

“‘Am I not a wretched, unhappy woman?’ said she, and fell upon my breast, sobbing.

“‘Madame la Comtesse de Pontiviers,’ announced the servant, whom I would willingly have assassinated, as well as the visiting bore who followed in his footsteps.

“I never saw Madame de Bergenheim in Paris again.  I was obliged to go to Bordeaux the next day, on account of a lawsuit which you know all about.  Upon my return, at the end of three weeks, I found she had left.  I finally learned that she had come to this place, and I followed her.  That is the extent of my drama.

“Now you know very well that I have not related this long story to you for the sole pleasure of keeping you awake until one o’clock in the morning.  I wanted to explain to you that it was really a serious thing for me, so that you might not refuse to do what I wish to ask of you.”

“I think I understand what you are aiming at,” said Marillac, rather pensively.

“You know Bergenheim; you will go to see him to-morrow.  He will invite you to pass a few days with him; you will stay to dinner.  You will see Mademoiselle de Corandeuil, in whose presence you will speak my name as you refer to our journey; and before night, my venerable cousin of 1569 shall send me an invitation to come to see her.”

“I would rather render you any other service than this,” replied the artist, walking up and down the room in long strides.  “I know very well that in all circumstances bachelors should triumph over husbands, but that does not prevent my conscience from smiting me.  You know that I saved Bergenheim’s life?”

“Rest assured that he runs no very great danger at present.  Nothing will result from this step save the little enjoyment I shall take in annoying the cruel creature who defied me today.  Is it agreed?”