Six days after these events, Samuel Brohl, having passed through Namur and Liege without stopping at either place, arrived by rail at Aix-la-Chapelle.

He went directly to the Hotel Royal, close to the railroad-station; he ordered a hearty dinner to be served him, which he washed down with foaming champagne.

He had an excellent appetite; his soul kept holiday; his heart was expanded, inflated with joy, and his brain intoxicated.

He had revenged himself; he had meted out justice to that insolent fellow, his rival.Mlle.Moriaz did not belong to Samuel Brohl, but she never would belong to Camille Langis.

Near the Franco-Belgian frontier, on the verge of a forest, a man had been shot in the breast; Samuel Brohl had seen him fall; and some one had cried, "He is dead!" It is asserted that Aix-la-Chapelle is a very dull city, that the very dogs suffer so sadly from ennui that they piteously beg passers-by to kick them, with a view to having a little excitement.
Samuel never felt one moment's ennui during the evening that he spent in Charlemagne's city.