"And what did you fight with?"
"Swords, madame."
"Well! what was the result?"
"I fulfilled your wishes to the utmost, madame; you wished me to kill Albert, and I have killed him—a sword-thrust in the breast; he died on the spot. I shed tears over my victory, I am not ashamed to admit it.—But as I placed my hand on the poor fellow's heart, to find out whether he still breathed, I felt this cigar in his pocket, and took it. You desired a token of my victory: this is the only one that I can offer you."
Madame Plays listened to Tobie with the air of one who could not believe what she heard; but when he had concluded, she rushed at him with a furious gesture and cried, snatching the cigar from his hand:
"You have killed him! Can it be possible? such a lovely boy! the only man I have ever loved! Yes, I was saying to myself this morning: 'I have never loved any man but him.'—And you had the villainy to kill him! and you come to tell me of it, you murderer!"
Tobie was utterly crushed.
"But, madame," he faltered, "I simply carried out your orders; you ordered me to avenge you."
"That is not true! I couldn't have said that. Or if I did, I was mad, and you shouldn't have paid any attention to it."