that terrible agony when his feeble humanity was breaking up in ruin?
Meanwhile with slow and painful steps he sought for a church. But he had lost his bearings; the early hour had changed the face of the streets. Soon, however, as he turned the corner of the Rue de la Chaussee-d'Antin, he noticed a tower looming vaguely in the fog at the end of the Trinite Church. The white statues overlooking the bare garden seemed like so many chilly Venuses among the yellow foliage of a park. Under the porch he stood and panted a little, for the ascent of the wide steps had tired him. Then he went in. The church was very cold, for its heating apparatus had been fireless since the previous evening, and its lofty, vaulted aisles were full of a fine damp vapor which had come filtering through the windows. The aisles were deep in shadow; not a soul was in the church, and the only sound audible amid the unlovely darkness was that made by the old shoes of some verger or other who was dragging himself about in sulky semiwakefulness. Muffat, however, after knocking forlornly against an untidy collection of chairs, sank on his knees with bursting heart and propped himself against the rails in front of a little chapel close by a font. He clasped his hands and began searching within himself for suitable prayers, while his whole being yearned toward a transport. But only his lips kept stammering empty words; his heart and brain were far away, and with them he returned to the outer world and began his long, unresting march through the streets, as though lashed forward by implacable necessity. And he kept repeating, 'O my God, come to my assistance! O my God, abandon not Thy creature, who delivers himself up to Thy justice! O my God, I adore Thee: Thou wilt not leave me to perish under the buffetings of mine enemies!' Nothing answered: the shadows and the cold weighed upon him, and the noise of the old shoes continued in the distance and prevented him praying. Nothing, indeed, save that tiresome noise was audible in the deserted church, where the matutinal sweeping was unknown before the early masses had somewhat warmed the air of the place. After that he rose to his feet with the help of a chair, his knees cracking under him as he did so. God was not yet there. And why should he weep in M. Venot's arms? The man could do nothing.
And then mechanically he returned to Nana's house. Outside he slipped, and he felt the tears welling to his eyes again, but he was not angry with his lot--he was only feeble and ill. Yes, he was too tired; the rain had wet him too much; he was nipped with cold, but the idea of going back to his great dark house in the Rue Miromesnil froze his heart. The house door at Nana's was not open as yet, and he had to wait till the porter made his appearance. He smiled as he went upstairs, for he already felt penetrated by the soft warmth of that cozy retreat, where he would be able to stretch his limbs and go to sleep.
When Zoe opened the door to him she gave a start of most uneasy astonishment. Madame had been taken ill with an atrocious sick headache, and she hadn't closed her eyes all night. Still, she could quite go and see whether Madame had gone to sleep for good. And with that she slipped into the bedroom while he sank back into one of the armchairs in the drawing room. But almost at that very moment Nana appeared. She had jumped out of bed and had scarce had time to slip on a petticoat. Her feet were bare, her hair in wild disorder, her nightgown all crumpled.
'What! You here again?' she cried with a red flush on her cheeks.
Up she rushed, stung by sudden indignation, in order herself to thrust him out of doors. But when she saw him in such sorry plight-- nay, so utterly done for--she felt infinite pity.
'Well, you are a pretty sight, my dear fellow!' she continued more gently. 'But what's the matter? You've spotted them, eh? And it's given you the hump?'
He did not answer; he looked like a broken-down animal. Nevertheless, she came to the conclusion that he still lacked proofs, and to hearten him up the said:
'You see now? I was on the wrong tack. Your wife's an honest woman, on my word of honor! And now, my little friend, you must go home to bed. You want it badly.'
He did not stir.
'Now then, be off! I can't keep you here. But perhaps you won't presume to stay at such a time as this?'
'Yes, let's go to bed,' he stammered.
She repressed a violent gesture, for her patience was deserting her. Was the man going crazy?
'Come, be off!' she repeated.
'No.'
But she flared up in exasperation, in utter rebellion.
'It's sickening! Don't you understand I'm jolly tired of your company? Go and find your wife, who's making a cuckold of you. Yes, she's making a cuckold of you. I say so--yes, I do now. There, you've got the sack! Will you leave me or will you not?'
Muffat's eyes filled with tears. He clasped his hands together.
'Oh, let's go to bed!'
At this Nana suddenly lost all control over herself and was choked by nervous sobs. She was being taken advaatage of when all was said and done! What had these stories to do with her? She certainly had used all manner of delicate methods in order to teach him his lesson gently. And now he was for making her pay the damages! No, thank you! She was kindhearted, but not to that extent.
'The devil, but I've had enough of this!' she swore, bringing her fist down on the furniture. 'Yes, yes, I wanted to be faithful--it was all I could do to be that! Yet if I spoke the word I could be rich tomorrow, my dear fellow!'
He looked up in surprise. Never once had he thought of the monetary question. If she only expressed a desire he would realize it at once; his whole fortune was at her service.
'No, it's too late now,' she replied furiously. 'I like men who give without being asked. No, if you were to offer me a million for a single interview I should say no! It's over between us; I've got other fish to fry there! So be off or I shan't answer for the consequences. I shall do something dreadful!'
She advanced threateningly toward him, and while she was raving, as became a good courtesan who, though driven to desperation, was yet firmly convinced of her rights and her superiority over tiresome, honest folks, the door opened suddenly and Steiner presented himself. That proved the finishing touch. She shrieked aloud:
'Well, I never. Here's the other one!'
Bewildered by her piercing outcry, Steiner stopped short. Muffat's unexpected presence annoyed him, for he feared an explanation and had been doing his best to avoid it these three months past. With blinking eyes he stood first on one leg, then on the other, looking embarrassed the while and avoiding the count's gaze. He was out of breath, and as became a man who had rushed across Paris with good news, only to find himself involved in unforeseen trouble, his face was flushed and distorted.
'Que veux-tu, toi?' asked Nana roughly, using the second person singular in open mockery of the count.
'What--what do I--' he stammered. 'I've got it for you--you know what.'
'Eh?'
He hesitated. The day before yesterday she had given him to understand that if he could not find her a thousand francs to pay a bill with she would not receive him any more. For two days he had been loafing about the town in quest of the money and had at last made the sum up that very morning.
'The thousand francs!' he ended by declaring as he drew an envelope from his pocket.
Nana had not remembered.
'The thousand francs!' she cried. 'D'you think I'm begging alms? Now look here, that's what I value your thousand francs at!'
And snatching the envelope, she threw it full in his face. As became a prudent Hebrew, he picked it up slowly and painfully and then looked at the young woman with a dull expression of face. Muffat and he exchanged a despairing glance, while she put her arms akimbo in order to shout more loudly than before.
'Come now, will you soon have done insulting me? I'm glad you've come, too, dear boy, because now you see the clearance'll be quite complete. Now then, gee up! Out you go!'
Then as they did not hurry in the least, for they were paralyzed:
'D'you mean to say I'm acting like a fool, eh? It's likely enough! But you've bored me too much! And, hang it all, I've had enough of swelldom! If I die of what I'm doing--well, it's my fancy!'
They sought to calm her; they begged her to listen to reason.
'Now then, once, twice, thrice! Won't you go? Very well! Look there! I've got company.'
And with a brisk movement she flung wide the bedroom door. Whereupon in the middle of the tumbled bed the two men caught sight of Fontan. He had not expected to be shown off in this situation; nevertheless, he took things very easily, for he was used to sudden surprises on the stage. Indeed, after the first shock he even hit upon a
