poisoned, did presently swell so that he almost filled the room, and would have died, but I gave him an antidote. Then he shrunk rapidly, and went on his way healed."

There was an expression of disbelief amongst the crowd, and a young artisan laughed aloud derisively; at which Panurge inquired bravely "Who it was?"

But when the artisan said it was himself, the ire of Panurge relaxed; and he said, if it had been any one else, he should have taken up the affront warmly. And then, on a reproving sign from Maître Glazer, he continued his work.

The evening soon warned the last of the talkers home, after Maître Glazer had held forth for some time longer on his favourite theme. When the latest idler had departed, Panurge closed the shop, and they retired into the small apartment behind for supper.

The shop was at the corner of the porte-cochère leading to the court-yard, and one window looked upon the passage, so that everybody who passed to the other apartments of the house could be seen. The meal was soon arranged by the concierge of the establishment -for Maître Glazer was a widower-and he sat down with his assistant to enjoy it.

"Has my boy come back?" asked the apothecary, as they took their places.

“I have not seen him,” replied Panurge. "His neighbour Theria, the Brabantian, is at home though, for there is a light in his window high up."

"They are great friends of Philippe's," said Maître Glazer; "both Theria and his wife-a modest, well-favoured body."

"Mère Jobert says it is not his wife," replied the assistant; "but merely a grisette of the city. Oh, the corrupt state of Paris!"

"She is outwardly well-behaved, and of mild manners," returned the apothecary; "and we wish to know no further. There is more vice at court than in that mansarde, which is approved of by the world."

"Theria does not like her to see much of me," said Panurge, conceitedly smoothing three or four hairs that straggled about his chin, where his beard ought to have been.

"Why not-for fear you should frighten her?"

"Frighten her! by the mass, it is far otherwise," answered the assistant. "There are not many gallants in Paris who have been so favoured as myself, or can show such a leg."

He stretched out the bony limb, and was gazing at it in admiration, when the attention of the apothecary was drawn off from some sharp reply he was about to make to Panurge's vanity, by a hurried tap at the door-a side one leading into the court. The rhapsodies of Panurge were stopped short, and he rose to let in the supposed patient-for there was small chance of its being any one else at that hour.

As he opened the door, a female entered hurriedly, and threw off a common cloak-one such as those worn in winter by the sisters of the hospitals. She was a young and handsome woman, in reality about thirty years of age, but her countenance bore an expression of girlish simplicity and freshness which rather belonged to nineteen. Her eyes were blue and lustrous; her hair, dark chestnut, arranged in curls, according to the fashion of the period, on each side of her

white expansive forehead; and her parted lips, as she breathed rapidly from hurry or agitation, disclosed a row of teeth singularly perfect and beautiful. One might have looked long amidst the fair dames of Paris, to have found features similarly soft and confiding in their aspect; the nose, which was retroussé, alone giving an expression-but a very slight one-of coquetry. Her figure was under the middling size, delicate and perfect in its contour; and, but for the mantle which she had worn over her other handsome apparel, a spectator would have wondered at seeing one so gentle in the streets of Paris by herself after dark, and during one of the most licentious epochs of French history. As Maître Glazer recognised his visitor, he rose and saluted her respectfully, with a reverence due to her rank; for it was Marie-Marguerite d'Aubrai, Marchioness of Brinvilliers.

"I am paying you a late visit to-night, Maître Glazer," she said laughingly; "it is lucky your assistant is here, or we might furnish scandal for our good city of Paris."

"Your reputation would be safe with so old a man as myself, madame," replied the apothecary; even with your most bitter ene

my. Is M. the Marquis well?"

Quite well, Maître Glazer, I thank you. As to my enemy, I hope I cannot reckon even one."

"Report is never idle now,

madame ; but you have little to dread;

few have your enviable name."

The Marchioness fixed her bright eyes on Glazer, as she bowed in reply to the old man's speech, allowing a smile of great sweetness to play over her fair face.

"Is your son Philippe at home?" she continued. "I wished to inquire after some of our charges at the Hôtel Dieu."

"I was asking but just now. There is a light with his friend Theria."

"I will go over to his étage, and see," replied the lady. old friends, you know; he will not mind my intrusion."

"We are

She gathered the cloak once more around her, and then, with another silvery laugh, nodded kindly to Glazer and Panurge, and tripped across the court, leaving the apothecary and his assistant to finish their meal.

"An excellent lady," said Glazer, as she left; "good and charitable. Would we had many more in Paris like her! And she has hard work, too, at the hospitals at present, as Philippe tells me; some evil demon seems to breathe a lingering sickness into her patients' frames the minute she takes them under her devoted care."

Panurge spoke but little, contenting himself with gradually clearing everything digestible that was upon the table; and at last the heavy curfew betokened to Maître Glazer that his usual hour of retiring for the night had arrived. The old man, preceded by his assistant with a lamp, made a careful survey of his establishment, putting out the remnant of fire in his laboratory; and Panurge prepared his couch, which was a species of berth under the counter. From their occupation they were both startled by a second knocking at the door, hurried and violent; and, on challenging the new-comer, a voice without inquired, "if Philippe had come in ?"

"My son seems in request to-night,” said Glazer. "That should be the Chevalier de Sainte-Croix's voice."

"You are right, Maître," cried Gaudin without, for it was he. "Do not disturb yourself. Shall I find your son in his apartment?"

"I cannot say, monsieur. Madame de Brinvilliers asked the same question but a few minutes since."

"She is here, then?" asked Sainte-Croix with an eagerness that betokened the Marchioness was chiefly concerned in his visit.

"She crossed the court just now, and has scarcely had time to

return."

"Enough, Maître Glazer," replied Sainte-Croix. "I am sorry to have disturbed you. Good night!"

Without waiting for a return of the salutation, Gaudin left the door, and hurried along the archway, towards the staircase, evidently impelled by no ordinary excitement. He had called that evening upon Madame de Brinvilliers, at her hotel in the Rue des Cordeliers, to seek an interview with her upon the subject of her acquaintance made with Theria at the Jacobins, which since last evening had been rankling in his heart. For some of the busy tongues of Paris had long whispered of a liaison that passed the bounds of friendship, between Gaudin and the Marchioness; nor were the reports unfounded. Sainte-Croix was madly, deeply devoted to her; but jealous, at the same time, to a point which rendered every word or look that she bestowed upon another a source of raging torture to his mind. He found the Marchioness had left word with her femmede-chambre that she had gone to see Philippe Glazer respecting her hospital patients, whom she was accustomed to serve as a sainte fille; and, knowing that Theria occupied the same flat with the young student, his suspicions were immediately aroused. She had, beyond doubt, made an appointment with him.

With his brain on fire, he left the hotel; and rapidly threading the dark and wretched streets that led to the Place Maubert, rather by instinct than the slightest attention to the localities, he reached the porte cochère by the side of Glazer's shop. Here he gained the information just alluded to, and immediately proceeded to the floor on which the rooms of the scholars were placed, flying up the stairs three and four at a time, until he came to the landing. There was no light in Glazer's chamber; he listened, and all was quiet; he was evidently not within. But from Theria's he thought he heard the murmur of voices proceeding, mingled now and then with light laughter which he recognised; whose sound made his blood boil again. He seized the handle of the sonnette, and pulled it violently. In less than half a minute, during which time he was chafing up and down the landing like an infuriated animal, the summons was answered. A small window in the wall was opened, and a female face appeared at it-that of a young and tolerably good-looking woman, apparently belonging to the class of grisettes.

"Is Camille within ?" asked Sainte-Croix, with an assumption of intimacy with Theria.

An answer was given in the negative.

"The Marchioness of Brinvilliers is here, I believe?" continued Gaudin. And, without waiting for a reply, he added, "Will you tell her she is wanted on most pressing business ?"

VOL. XVII.

K

The woman retired, and closed the window. Immediately afterwards, he heard footsteps approaching; the outer door opened, and Madame de Brinvilliers appeared.

A stifled scream of fear and surprise, yet sufficiently intense to show her emotion at the presence of Gaudin, broke from her lips as she recognized him. But, directly, she recovered her impassibility of features that wonderful calmness and innocent expression which afterwards was so severely put to the proof without being shaken; and asked, with apparent unconcern,

"Well, monsieur, what do you want with me?"

"Marie!" exclaimed Gaudin; "let me ask your business here, at this hour, unattended; and in the apartment of a scholar of the Hôtel Dieu ?"

"You are mad, Sainte-Croix," said the Marchioness; "am I to be accountable to you for all my actions? M. Theria is not here, and I came to see his wife on my own affairs."

"Liar!" cried Gaudin, as he quivered with jealous rage, seizing the arm of the Marchioness with a clutch of iron. "Theria is within, and you came to meet him only. You know that woman is not his wife: though many there be less constant. You would wean his love from her, and make him cast her upon the world, that you might be installed as his paramour. You see, I know all-in another moment she also shall be acquainted with everything."

Sainte-Croix had spoken much of this upon mere chance, but it proved to be correct. In an instant the accustomed firmness of the Marchioness deserted her, and she fell upon her knees at his feet, on the cold damp floor of the landing.

"In the name of mercy, leave this house, Gaudin !" she exclaimed hurriedly. "I have been very, very wrong. I confess I ought to have been more candid. But leave this house-on my bended knees I implore it. I will explain everything."

"I shall not stir, Marie," replied Sainte-Croix; and through all his excitement a sarcastic smile played upon his lip as he saw the trembling woman at his feet. The tumult of this interview will reach your new favourite's ears; possibly the police of to-morrow will exhibit strange prisoners."

In an agony of terror the Marchioness clung to Sainte-Croix, and again besought him to depart. But Gaudin saw, as she quailed before his determined aspect, that he had gained a temporary triumph over her haughty disposition; and he enjoyed her distress in proportion as it increased.

"Gaudin !" she cried; "pray, pray quit this place. I will do all that you may in future wish, so that you will but go away. I will be your abject slave; you shall spurn me, trample on me, crush me, if you choose; only leave the house."

"I am waiting for an interview with M. Theria," Sainte-Croix replied coldly.

"You will not depart !" exclaimed the Marchioness, suddenly altering her tone, and springing up from her position of supplication. "Then but one resource is left."

Where are you about to go?" asked Sainte-Croix, as she advanced towards the top of the flight of stairs.

"Hinder me not," returned Marie. "To the river!"

The Seine flowed but a few steps from the corner of the Place