“Ha— very good!” he stammered, his voice choking with rage, and he drew his sword, still stammering— for passion makes a man tremble as well as fear. “Draw,” he cried, “here— on the spot— draw and defend yourself! There shall be blood upon these stones!”

The other never stirred. Then, as he saw his adversary on guard and ready to run him through— “Captain Phœbus,” said he, and his voice shook with bitterness, “you are forgetting your assignation.”

The angry fits of such men as Phœbus are like boiling milk of which a drop of cold water will stay the ebullition. These few words brought down the point of the sword which glittered in the captain’s hand.

“Captain,” continued the man, “to-morrow— the day after— a month— ten years hence— you will find me ready to cut your throat; but now go to your rendezvous.”

“Why, in truth,” said Phœbus, as if parleying with himself, “a sword and a girl are two charming things with which to have a rendezvous; but I see no reason why I should miss the one for the sake of the other, when I can have them both.” And with that he put up his sword.

“Go to your rendezvous,” repeated the unknown.

“Sir,” said Phœbus with some embarrassment, “thanks for your courtesy. You are right, there will be plenty of time to-morrow for us to mutually make slashes and buttonholes in father Adam’s doublet. I am obliged to you for thus permitting me to pass another agreeable quarter of an hour. I was indeed in hopes of laying you in the gutter, and yet arriving in time for the lady, all the more that it is not amiss to make women wait for you a little on such occasions. But you seem to be a fellow of mettle, so it will be safer to put it off till to-morrow. So now I will be off to my rendezvous; it is for seven o’clock, you know.” Here Phœbus scratched his ear. “Ah, corne Dieu! I’d forgotten— I have not a sou to pay the hire of the garret, and the old hag will want to be paid in advance— she will not trust me.”

“Here is the wherewithal to pay.”

Phœbus felt the cold hand of the unknown slip a large coin into his. He could not refrain from accepting the money and grasping the hand.

“God’s truth!” he exclaimed, “but you are a good fellow!”

“One condition,” said the man; “prove to me that I was wrong, and that you spoke the truth. Hide me in some corner whence I may see whether this woman be really she whom you named.”

“Oh,” answered Phœbus, “I have not the slightest objection. We shall use the ’Sainte-Marthe room,’ and you can see into it as much as you like from a little den at one side of it.”

“Come, then,” said the shade.

“At your service,” said the captain. “For all I know, you may be Messer Diabolus in person. But let’s be good friends to-night; to-morrow I will pay you all my debts— both of the purse and the sword.”

They went forward at a rapid pace, and in a few moments the sound of the river below told them that they were on the Pont Saint-Michel, at that time lined with houses.

“I will get you in first,” said Phœbus to his companion, “and then go and fetch the lady, who was to wait for me near the Petit-Châtelet.”

His companion made no reply. Since they had been walking side by side he had not uttered a word. Phœbus stopped in front of a low door and knocked loudly. A light shone through the crevices of the door.”

“Who’s there?” cried a quavering old voice.