CHAPTER IV.
Before Mademoiselle de Guerchi had recovered from her fright the commander spoke.
"As I am a gentleman, my beauty, if you were the Abbess of Montmartre, you could not be more difficult of access.

I met a blackguard on the stairs who tried to stop me, and whom I was obliged to thrash soundly.
Is what they told me on my return true?
Are you really doing penance, and do you intend to take the veil ?" "Sir," answered Angelique, with great dignity, "whatever may be my plans, I have a right to be surprised at your violence and at your intrusion at such an hour." "Before we go any farther," said de Jars, twirling round on his heels, "allow me to present to you my nephew, the Chevalier de Moranges." "Chevalier de Moranges!" muttered Quennebert, on whose memory in that instant the name became indelibly engraven.
"A young man," continued the commander, "who has come back with me from abroad.

Good style, as you see, charming appearance.

Now, you young innocent, lift up your great black eyes and kiss madame's hand; I allow it." "Monsieur le commandeur, leave my room; begone, or I shall call----" "Whom, then?
Your lackeys?
But I have beaten the only one you keep, as I told you, and it will be some time before he'll be in a condition to light me downstairs: 'Begone,' indeed! Is that the way you receive an old friend?
Pray be seated, chevalier." He approached Mademoiselle de Guerchi, and, despite her resistance, seized hold of one of her hands, and forcing her to sit down, seated himself beside her.
"That's right, my girl," said he; "now let us talk sense.

I understand that before a stranger you consider yourself obliged to appear astonished at my ways of going on.