"We expect you by the return stage. So pack up your tatters

inward power of sight, an eye of the soul which foresees catastrophes;

and the repugnance that comes over us against the fateful being is the

result of that foresight. Though religion orders us to conquer it,

distrust remains, and its voice is forever heard. Would Oscar, at

twenty years of age, have the wisdom to listen to it?

Alas! when, at half-past two o'clock, Oscar entered the salon of the

Rocher de Cancale,--where were three invited persons besides the

clerks, to wit: an old captain of dragoons, named Giroudeau; Finot, a