“Yes⁠—I fear.”

“You fear to acknowledge that your correspondent has deceived you? Oh, no self-love, Beauchamp. Acknowledge it, Beauchamp; your courage cannot be doubted.”

“Not so,” murmured the journalist; “on the contrary⁠—”

Albert turned frightfully pale; he endeavored to speak, but the words died on his lips.

“My friend,” said Beauchamp, in the most affectionate tone, “I should gladly make an apology; but, alas!⁠—”

“But what?”

“The paragraph was correct, my friend.”

“What? That French officer⁠—”

“Yes.”

“Fernand?”