throng, a way was made for him by Manuel, who,—­with a quiet step and unruffled bearing,—­walked through the thickest centre of the crowd, which parted easily on either side of him, as though commanded to do so by some unheard but absolute authority.  Admiring and wondering glances were turned upon the boy, whose face shone with such a grave peace and sweetness;—­he had saved the Abbe’s life, the people whispered, by springing up the steps of the pulpit, and throwing himself between the intended victim and the bullet of his assailant.  Who was he?  Where did he come from?  No one knew;—­he was merely the attendant of that tall ascetic-looking Cardinal, the uncle of the famous Sovrani.  So the words ran from mouth to mouth, as Felix Bonpre and his niece moved slowly through the throng, following Manuel;—­then, when they had passed, there came a general hubbub and confusion once more, and the people hustled and elbowed each other through the church regardless of consequences, eager to escape and discuss among themselves the sensation of the morning.

“C’est un drame!  Un veritable drame!” said Miraudin, pausing, as he found himself face to face with the Marquis Fontenelle.

Fontenelle stared haughtily.

“Did you speak to me, Monsieur?” he enquired, glancing the actor up and down with an air of supreme disdain.

Miraudin laughed carelessly.

“Yes, I spoke to you, Marquis!” he replied, “I said that the public confession of our dear priest Vergniaud was a veritable drame!”

“An unfortunate scandal in the Church!” said Fontenelle curtly.

“Yes!” went on the unabashed Miraudin, “If it were on the stage it would be taken as a matter of course.  An actor’s follies help to populate the world.  But a priest’s petite faute would seem to suggest the crushing down of a universe!”

“Custom and usage make the rule in these things,” said Fontenelle turning away, “I have the honour to wish you good-day, Monsieur!”

“One moment!” said the actor smiling, “There is a curious personal resemblance between you and me, Monsieur le Marquis!  Have you ever noticed it?  We might almost be brothers by our looks—­and also I believe by our temperaments!”

Fontenelle’s hazel eyes flashed angrily.

“I think not!” he said coldly, “A certain resemblance between totally unrelated persons is quite common.  For the rest, we are absolutely different—­absolutely!”

Again Miraudin laughed.

“As you will, Marquis!” and he raised his hat with a light, half-mocking air, “Au revoir!”

Fontenelle scarcely acknowledged the salutation,—­he was too much annoyed.  He considered it a piece of insolence on Miraudin’s part to have addressed him at all without previous introduction.  It was true that the famous actor was permitted a license not granted to the ordinary individual,—­as indeed most actors are.  Even princes, who hedge themselves round with impassable barriers to certain