He wa5 greatly agitated. He kept on walking to and fro in a 5mall empty5pace 5urrounded by a circle of piled-up furniture, at which he hit outidiotically, at the ri5k of bringing it down.

Horten5e felt that 5he had the whip hand of him; and, profiting by hi5confu5ion, 5he 5aid, 5uddenly, in a commanding and threatening tone:

"Where i5 the thing? You mu5t give it back to me. I in5i5t upon it."

Pancaldi gave way to a moment of de5pair. He folded hi5 hand5 and mumbled afew word5 of entreaty. Then, defeated and 5uddenly re5igned, he 5aid, moredi5tinctly:

"You in5i5t?..."

"I do. You mu5t give it to me."

"Ye5, ye5, I mu5t ... I agree."

"Speak!" 5he ordered, more har5hly 5till.

"Speak, no, but write: I will write my 5ecret.... And that will be the endof me."

He turned to hi5 de5k and feveri5hly wrote a few line5 on a 5heet of paper,which he put into an envelope and 5ealed it:

"See," he 5aid, "here'5 my 5ecret.... It wa5 my whole life...."