staircase the jockey in the pink jacket! I concluded that, by chance, the owner of the winning horse must live in the same hotel as myself; but, lo! as I entered my apartments I beheld the very gold cup awarded as a prize to the unknown horse and rider. Inside the cup was a small piece of paper, on which were written these words—'From Lord Ruthven to Countess G.'"
"Precisely; I was sure of it," said Morcerf.
"Sure of what?"
"That the owner of the horse was Lord Ruthven himself."
"What Lord Ruthven do you mean?"
"Why, our Lord Ruthven."
"The Vampire of the Salle Argentina!"
"Mercy upon me!" exclaimed the countess; "is he here too?"
"To be sure."
"And you visit him? meet him at your own house and elsewhere!"
"I assure you he is my most intimate friend, and M. de Chateau-Renaud has also the honor of his acquaintance."
"But what makes you so convinced of his being the winner of the Jockey Club prize?"
"The winning horse entered by the name of Vampa."
"What of that?"
"Why, do you not recollect the name of the celebrated bandit by whom I was made prisoner?"
"True."
"And from whose hands the count extricated me in so wonderful a manner?"
"Yes."
"His name was Vampa; you see it must be the count."
"But what could have been his motive for sending the cup to me?"
"In the first place, because I had spoken much of you to him, as you may believe; and in the second, because he delighted to see a country woman take so lively an interest in his success."
"I trust and hope you never repeated to the count all the foolish remarks we used to make about him."
"I should not like to affirm upon oath that I have not. Besides, his presenting you the cup under the name of Lord Ruthven. . . ."
"Oh, but that is dreadful! Why, the man must owe me a fearful grudge."
"Does his conduct seem that of an enemy?"
"No! certainly not!"
"Well, then"
"And so he is in Paris?"
