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She obliged him to turn back; ten minutes later she had alighted from her coupe, he had sprung from his saddle, and they were seated side by side on a rustic bench. A few days previous M. Langis had met M. Moriaz, who had complained bitterly of being forsaken by him as well as by Mme. de Lorcy, and who had extracted from him the promise to come and see him. Camille had kept this promise.

Were the events of this nether sphere governed by the calculus of probabilities, Count Abel Larinski and Mlle. Antoinette Moriaz would almost unquestionably have arrived at the end of their respective careers without ever having met. Count Larinski lived in Vienna, Austria; Mlle.

"This appears to me self-evident," said she. "And, for example," further continued M. Moriaz, "she has among her proteges a certain Mlle. Galard " "Galet," said Mlle. Moiseney, bridling up, for she had been impatiently awaiting an opportunity to put in a word. "This Mlle. Leontine Galet, who lives at No. 25 Rue Mouffetard " "No. 27," again interposed Mlle. Moiseney, in a magisterial tone.

Antoinette Moriaz, for it was none other than she who thus riveted his attention, he experienced an inexplicable surprise, a thrilling of the heart, such as he never before had experienced. In his first impression of this charming girl he made one slight mistake.

He was already at some distance when M. Moriaz, who had been busily recounting his adventures to his daughter, bethought him that he had kept his deliverer's overcoat. He searched in the pockets, and there found a memorandum-book and some visiting-cards bearing the name of Count Abel Larinski.

She hastily descended into the orchard, and, during five minutes, her eye fixed on the gate, she waited for Samuel Brohl. Her impatience counted the seconds, and yet Mlle. Moriaz could have wished the gate would never open. There was near by an old apple-tree that she loved; in the old days she had more than once suspended her hammock from one of its arched and drooping branches.

Moriaz observed that it had a strong resemblance to the Persian bracelet that the Princess Gulof had described to her, and which she had exchanged for Samuel Brohl. The three gold plates, the grotesque animals, the filigree network nothing was wanting.

"Of whom do you speak?" replied Antoinette, whose colour rose in her cheeks. "Of a most charming man, who, either through inconceivable stupidity, or through most criminal calculation, neglected to tell us that he was married." And with these words, Mlle. Moiseney extended both arms, that she might receive into them Mlle. Moriaz, whom she believed to be already swooning. Mlle.

Moriaz remained an instant as if stunned by a blow. She questioned herself as to whether she had not seen a vision, or had had the nightmare. Was it, indeed, a Russian princess of flesh and blood who had just been there, who had been seated close beside her, and had conversed so strangely with her that the belfry of Cormeilles could not hear it without falling into a profound stupor?

M. Moriaz opened his lips and closed them again three times without speaking. He finally contented himself with a gesture, which signified, "The die is cast, let come what must." Samuel Brohl religiously kept his word. After having made a most faultless toilet, he repaired by the railway to Argenteuil, where he took a carriage. He reached Cormeilles as the clock struck nine.