volcano raging and burning beneath the thin mask of calm was the
ceaseless knotting of the muscles of the jaw and the compressed lips.
When the poet broke forth, reviling his own conduct, the Chevalier
silenced him with a gesture of the hand.

"You are wasting your breath. What you have done can not be undone."
The tones of his voice were all on a dull level, cold and unimpassioned.

Victor was struck with admiration at the sight of such extraordinary
control; and he trembled to think of the whirlwind which would some day
be let loose.

"I will kill De Leviston the first opportunity," he said.

The Chevalier arose. "No, lad; the man who told him. He is mine!"

Victor sought out Brother Jacques for advice; but Brother Jacques's
advice was similar to the Chevalier's and the governors.

So the day wore on into evening, and only then did the Chevalier
venture forth. He wandered aimlessly about the ramparts, alone, having
declined Victor's company, and avoiding all whom he saw. He wanted to
be alone, alone, forever alone. Longingly he gazed toward the
blackening forests. Yonder was a haven. Into those shadowy woods he
might plunge and hide himself, built him a hut, and become lost to
civilization, his name forgotten and his name forgetting. O fool in
wine that he had been! To cut himself off from the joys and haunts of
men in a moment of drunken insanity! He had driven the marquis with
taunts and gibes; he had shouted his ignoble birth across a table; and
he expected, by coming to this wilderness, to lose the Nemesis he