There lay over all this a mask of reckless humor and gaiety.

It was the face of a man who, had he curbed his desires and walked with circumspection, would have known enduring greatness as a captain, as an explorer, as a theologian.

Not a contour of the face hut expressed force, courage, daring, immobility of purpose.
"Hurrah, Chevalier!" he cried; "the bowl will soon be empty." "The Vicomte d'Halluys ?" murmured Victor.

"Paul, there is another gentleman bound for Spain.

We shall have company." "What?
The astute vicomte, that diplomat ?" "Even so.