Victor waited for him to heap reproach upon him; but never a word did the Chevalier utter.

The only sign he gave of the 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.