‘She’s been in Paris ten days.’

‘Don’t you think that Bouchereau looks very ill? It doesn’t seem as if the climate of the south has done him much good. He’s twice as livid as before he left. Poor Bouchereau!’

‘Ah! ah!’ said the other, ‘you’re for giving him a chest trouble too? That would be too funny.’

‘What would be too funny?’ asked the captain brusquely.

‘The trick that that rogue Magnan played on Bouchereau and on you, for, if I can trust your dumbfounded look, you’ve an equal share in the mystification.’

‘Berton, you are abusing my patience,’ said Pelletier in a gruff voice.

‘Dog doesn’t eat dog,’ went on Berton laughing, ‘so let’s speak without losing our tempers. This is the story: all Paris, except you, has been laughing at it all last week. It appears that, on the one hand and without any one suspecting it, the aforesaid Magnan was in love with Madame Bouchereau, and that, on the other, since he had suffered from his chest for some time, he had judged it wise to go and spend the winter in a milder climate than this. What does my gay spark do? He persuades the innocent Bouchereau that it was he, Bouchereau, whose chest was weak; he gets him to set out for Nice, as well as his amiable wife; then at his leisure, without any hurry, he goes to join them. The picture that they all three make just now, leaves no doubt as to the denouement of the story: merely from the look of them one can guess that, without libel, one could hang on the front of their box the title of one of Paul de Kock’s latest novels, The Husband, the Wife, and the Lover. This Magnan is a witty fellow, and he has ingenious ideas. Fearing doubtless that the husband might see too clearly what was going on, he persuaded him to wear blue glasses, threatening him with an ophthalmia. Isn’t it a good trick, and isn’t it an amusing adventure?’

‘Charming, delicious,’ answered the captain, smiling in a fashion to make one believe he was grinding his teeth.

The tragedy was just finishing. Dr. Magnan left his box, Pelletier at once followed his example. A moment afterwards the two men found themselves face to face in the foyer.

‘Doctor, a word with you,’ said the captain with a serious air.

‘Two, if you want, captain,’ answered Magnan in a jovial tone.

‘It appears that, in spite of your prognostications, Bouchereau is in splendid health.’

‘Would you want the man to die?’ asked the doctor, parodying with comic emphasis the accents of Joanny who had just filled the role of the Father of the Horatii.

‘I know that you make the most ravishing jokes,’ Pelletier went on with a resentment that was beginning to turn into anger: ‘but you ought to know that I am not accustomed to serve as a butt. Will you be good enough to answer me. Seriously, is it true that Bouchereau has never been in danger?’

‘In great danger, on the contrary. Hadn’t he got to fight with you?’

‘And so, when you sent him to Nice—’

‘It was to prevent this duel. As a doctor I am accustomed to watch over the health of my patients, and my duty was to preserve Bouchereau from your sword, which is renowned as being a terrible disease.’

‘A disease for which you will perhaps have to treat yourself before very long,’ said the captain whom the doctor’s coolness had finished by exasperating. ‘Let that fool Bouchereau die of fear or of any other