So soon as my cure is entirely finished I will set out for Paris, where I will do penance." "What kind of penance ?" asked M.Moriaz.

"Paris is not a hermitage." "Nor is it my intention to live there as a hermit," was the reply, given with perfect simplicity.

"I go to give lessons in music and in the languages." "Indeed!" exclaimed M.Moriaz.

"Do you see no other career open to you, my dear count ?" "I am no longer a count," he replied, with an heroic smile.

"Counts do not run about giving private lessons." And a strange light flashed in his eyes as he spoke.