"I said she poisoned herself, advisedly." "Oho!" The vicomte whistled, while Victor drew back.
"Now, Messieurs, will you permit me to go?
It is high time you both were on the way to Spain." D'Herouville stamped his foot impatiently.
"And you will go to Quebec ?" asked the vicomte.
"Certainly." "Well then, till Monsieur de Saumaise and I see you on board.

We are bound in that direction." "You ?" taken aback like a ship's sail.
"Why not, Monsieur," said Victor, a bit of irony in his tones, "since you yourself are going that way ?" "You took me by surprise." The count's eye ran up and down the poet's form.

He moved his shoulders suggestively.

"Till we meet again, then." And he left them.
"My poet," said the vicomte, "that was a stroke.

Lord, how he will love you when he discovers the trick! What a boor he makes of himself to cover his designs! Here is a bag of trouble, and necessity has forced our hands into it.