Radiant with joy was the face of Sir Walter Murphy. On descending from the carriage, he handed to one of the servants a pair of pistols, took off his long riding, coat, and, without losing time to change his dress, he followed Rudolph, who, very impatient, had preceded him to his apartment.

"Good news, your highness, good news!" cried the squire, when he found himself alone with Rudolph. "The wretches are unmasked! Lord d'Orbigny is saved! You sent me off in time; one hour later, a new crime would have been committed."

"And Madame d'Harville?"

"She is overjoyed at regaining her father's affection, and at having arrived in time, thanks in your advice, to save him from certain death."

"Polidori?"

"Was once more the worthy accomplice of the stepmother of Madame d'Harville. But what a monster is this step-mother! what audacity! And Polidori! Oh, my lord, you have often been pleased to thank me for what you call the proofs of my devotedness."

"I have always had proofs of your friendship, my good Sir Walter."

"Well, never, your highness, never—no, never has this friendship been put to a severer test than in this affair," said the squire, in a half joking manner.

"How is that?"

"Disguises as coalheavers, and so on, were nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to the journey I have just made with this infernal Polidori."

"What do you say? Polidori—"

"I have brought him with me."

"With you?"

"With me. Judge what a companion! during twelve hours, side by side with the man I despise and hate the most in the world! I would as soon travel with a serpent; my antipathy—"

"And where is Polidori now?"

"In the house of the Allee des Veuves, under good, sure guard."

"Did he make no resistance to following you?"

"None. I left him the choice of being arrested on the spot by the French authorities, or being my prisoner in the Allee des Veuves. He did not hesitate."

"You were right; it is better to have him thus in our own hands. You are a man of gold, my friend; but relate to me your journey; I am impatient to know how this unworthy woman and her depraved accomplice have been unmasked."

"Nothing could be plainer. I had only to follow your instructions to the letter to terrify and crush these wretches. In this case, your highness has saved, as usual, people of worth, and punished the wicked; noble Providence that you are!"

"Sir Walter, Sir Walter, do you remember the flatteries of Baron de
Graun?" said Rudolph, smiling.

"Well, let it pass. I will commence then; or, rather, you will first please to read this letter, from Madame d'Harville, which will inform you of all that occurred previous to my arrival."

"A letter? give it to me quickly."

Murphy, handing Rudolph the letter, added, "As it was agreed upon, instead of accompanying the lady to her father's I alighted at an inn, a short distance from the chateau, where I was to stay until her ladyship sent for me."

Rudolph read what follows, with tender and impatient solicitude:

"YOUR HIGHNESS,—To all I owe you already, I add the life of my father!

"I shall let facts speak for themselves; they will tell you better than I can, what new treasures of gratitude toward you I have collected in my heart.

"Comprehending all the importance of the counsels which you gave me through Sir Walter Murphy, who rejoined me on the road to Normandy, just as I left Paris, I arrived in all haste at the Chateau des Aubiers.

"I do not know why, but the features of the servants who received me appeared sinister; I did not see among them any of the old servitors of our house; no one knew me; I was obliged to announce myself. I learned that, some days before, my father was quite ill, and my stepmother had just returned from Paris with a physician. No more doubt—it was Dr. Polidori!

"Wishing to be conducted at once to my father, I asked where an old valet was, to whom he was much attached. This man had left the chateau some time before; this information was given me by a butler, who had conducted me to my apartments, saying 'that he would go and inform my step-mother of my arrival.'

"Was it an illusion or prejudice? it seemed to me that my arrival was disagreeable even to the servants. Everything in the chateau seemed mournful and sad. In the disposition of mind in which I found myself, one seeks to draw conclusions from the merest trifles. I remarked everywhere traces of disorder, of negligence, as if it had been thought useless to take care of a dwelling so soon to be abandoned.

"My anxiety increased each moment. After having settled my daughter and her governess in my apartment, I was about to go to my father when my step-mother entered. Notwithstanding her duplicity and the command which she ordinarily has over herself, she appeared uneasy at my arrival.

"M. d'Orbigny did not expect your visit, madame," said she to me. "He is so ill, that such a surprise might be fatal. I think it, then, suitable to leave him in ignorance of your presence; he cannot, in any way—" I did not allow her to finish.

"A great misfortune has happened, madame," said I; 'M. d'Harville is dead! victim of a fatal imprudence! After such a deplorable event, I cannot remain in Paris, and I have come to pass at my father's my mourning."

"You are a widow! Oh! what overpowering good fortune!' cried my step-mother, in a rage. From what you know of the unhappy marriage, which this woman schemed for me, your highness will comprehend the atrocity of her exclamation.

"It is because I feared that you would be also as overpoweringly fortunate as I am, madame, that I came here," said I, perhaps imprudently; "I wish to see my father."

"Your unexpected appearance may do your father much harm," cried she, placing herself before me, to bar the passage. 'I will not allow you to enter his chamber until I have informed him of your return, with all the precautions his situation requires.'

"I was in a state of cruel perplexity. A sudden surprise might, indeed, prove dangerous to my father; but this woman, ordinarily so cold, so much the mistress of herself, seemed so alarmed at my presence; I had so many reasons to doubt the sincerity of her solicitude for the health of him whom she had married from cupidity; finally, the presence of Dr. Polidori, my mother's murderer, caused a terror so great that, believing the life of my father to be threatened, I did not hesitate between the hope of saving him and the fear of causing him any serious emotions.

"'I will see my father at once,' said I to my stepmother.

"And although she caught me by the arms, I passed out.

"Losing her self-possession completely, this woman again endeavored to stop me. This incredible resistance redoubled my alarm. I disengaged myself from her hands. Knowing the apartment of my father, I ran thither rapidly; I entered. Oh, your highness! on my life, I shall never forget the scene presented to my view. My father, almost unrecognizable, pale, thin, suffering painted on every feature, with his head leaning on a pillow, was stretched out in a large arm-chair.

"At the chimney-corner, standing near him, was Dr. Polidori, prepared to pour in a cup, which a nurse presented to him, some drops of a liquid contained in a little glass bottle which he held in his hand.

"His long red beard gave a still more sinister expression to his face. I entered so precipitately, that he made a gesture of surprise, exchanged a look of intelligence with my step-mother, who followed in haste, and instead of giving my father the potion which he had prepared for him, he quickly placed it on the chimney-piece.

"Guided by an instinct which I cannot yet account for, my first movement was to seize the vial.

"Remarking the surprise and alarm of my step-mother and Polidori, I felicitated myself on my action. My father, stupefied, seemed irritated, at seeing me, as I expected. Polidori cast a ferocious glance at me; notwithstanding the presence of my father and that of the nurse, I feared that this wretch, seeing his crime almost discovered, would carry matters to extremities.

"I felt the need of help at this decisive moment; I rang the bell; one of the servants appeared; I begged him to say to my valet (who had his instructions) to go and bring some things I had left at the inn; Sir Walter Murphy knew that, not to arouse the suspicions of my stepmother, I would employ this subterfuge to bring him to me.

"The surprise of my father and my step-mother was such that the servant retired before they could say a word; I was reassured; in a few moments Sir Walter would be near me.

"'What does this mean?' said my father, at length, in a feeble but imperious and angry tone, 'You here, Clemence, without being sent for? And then, hardly arrived, you take possession of the vial which contains the potion that the doctor was about to give me; will you explain this folly?'

"'Leave the room,' said my step-mother to the nurse. 'Calm yourself, dear,' said she, addressing my father; 'you know the least emotion may injure you. Since your daughter comes here in spite of you, and her presence is disagreeable, give me your arm, I will conduct you to the little saloon; and leave our good doctor to make Madame d'Harville understand the imprudence (not to say anything worse) of her conduct.'

"And she cast a significant look at her accomplice. I comprehended the design of my step-mother. She wished to lead my father away, and leave me alone with Polidori, who, in this extreme case, would have doubtless employed violence to force from me the vial, which might furnish evident proof of his designs. 'You are right,' said my father; 'since she comes and persecutes me even in my own room, without any respect for my wishes, I will leave the place free to her importunacy.' And rising with an effort, he accepted the offered arm, and made some steps toward the small saloon. At this moment, Polidori advancing toward me, I drew nearer my father and said, 'I will explain to you the cause of my unexpected arrival, and what is strange in my conduct. I am a widow. I know your days are threatened, father.'

"He walked painfully, with his body bent. At these words, he stopped, stood erect, and looking at me with profound astonishment, cried, 'You are a widow? my days threatened? What does all this mean?'

"'And who dares to threaten the days of M. d'Orbigny, madame?' audaciously asked my step-mother. 'Who threatens them?' added Polidori.

"'You, sir; you, madame,' I answered. 'What an insult!' cried my step-mother, advancing toward me. 'What I say, I will prove, madame.' 'Such an accusation is frightful!' said my father.

"'I shall leave this house at once, since in it I am exposed to such atrocious calumnies!' said Dr. Polidori, with the assumed indignation of a man whose honor was outraged. Beginning to feel the danger of his position, he doubtless wished to fly. As he opened the door, he found himself face to face with Sir Walter Murphy."

Rudolph, stopping a moment, extended his hand to the squire, and said: "Very timely, my old friend; your presence must have been like a thunderbolt to this Wretch." "That is the word, your highness; he became livid, and retreated two steps, looking at me in a kind of stupor; he seemed astounded. To meet me in Normandy at such a moment! he thought it was a dream. But continue, my lord; you will see that this infernal Countess d'Orbigny had also her turn of a thunderbolt, thanks to what you told me of her visit to the quack Bradamanti Polidori in the house of the Rue du Temple; for, after all, it is you who act; or, rather, I was only the instrument of your thought."

Rudolph smiled, and went on with the perusal of the letter of Madame d'Harville.

"At the sight of Sir Walter, Polidori was petrified; my step-mother fell from one surprise into another; my father, alarmed at this scene, and weakened by sickness, was obliged to seat himself in a chair. Sir Walter double-locked the door by which he entered; and, placing himself before the one which opened into another apartment, so that the doctor could not escape, he said to my father, with the most profound respect:

"'I ask a thousand pardons, my lord, for the liberty I take; but imperious necessity, dictated solely by you? interest (as you will soon acknowledge) obliges me to act thus. My name is Sir Walter Murphy, as this wretch can testify, who, at my sight, trembles with fear; I am the confidential adviser of his Royal Highness, the Grand-Duke of Gerolstein.'

"'It is true,' said Dr. Polidori, confusedly, quite beside himself with alarm. 'But, sir, what do you come here for? What do you want?'

"'Sir Walter Murphy,' said I, addressing my father, 'comes to aid me in unmasking these wretches, to whose machinations you were near falling a victim.' Then, handing to Sir Walter the vial, I added, 'I have had the good fortune to become possessed of this at the moment Dr. Polidori was about administering to my father its contents.'

"'A chemist from the neighboring town shall analyze before you the contents of this bottle, which I am going to place in your lordship's hands, and if it be proved that it contains a slow poison,' said Sir Walter to my father, 'there can remain no more doubt of the danger you have run, which the affection of your daughter has happily prevented.'

"My poor father looked at his wife, Dr. Polidori, Sir Walter, and myself in a bewildered manner; his features expressed deep agony, I read upon his careworn face the violent struggle which tore his heart. Without doubt he was resisting with all his strength growing and terrible suspicions, fearing to be obliged to recognize the guilt of my step-mother; at length, concealing his face in his hands, he cried, 'Oh! all this is horrible—impossible! Is this, then, a dream?'

"'No, it is not a dream!' cried my step-mother, audaciously: 'nothing is more real than this atrocious calumny, previously concocted, to ruin an unhappy woman, whose sole crime has been consecrating her life to you. Come, come, my friend, let us not remain a second longer here!' added she, addressing herself to my father; 'perhaps your daughter will not have the insolence to detain you in spite of yourself.'

"'Yes, yes, let us go,' said my father, almost wild; 'this is not true—cannot be true; I wish to hear nothing further; my reason would give way; frightful suspicions would arise in my mind, empoison the few days remaining for me to live, and nothing could console me for such an abominable discovery!'

"My father seemed so suffering, so despairing, that at any sacrifice, I would have put a stop to a scene so cruel for him. Sir Walter divined my thoughts; but, wishing to do full and entire justice, he answered my father.

"'Yet a few words, my lord; you are about to experience the affliction, doubtless very painful, of discovering that a woman whom you believe attached to you by gratitude, has always been a monstrous hypocrite; but you will find certain consolation in the affection of your daughter, who has always been true."

"'This passes all bounds!' cried my step-mother, in a rage; 'by what right, sir, on what proofs, dare you utter such frightful calumnies? You say the vial contains poison. I deny it, sir; and I will deny it until you prove the contrary; and even if Dr. Polidori might have by accident mistaken one medicine for another, is that a reason to dare to accuse me of having wished, with him as an accomplice—oh! no, no, I cannot finish—an idea so horrible is already a crime. Once more, sir, I defy you to say on what proofs you and madame dare to sustain this frightful calumny,' said my step-mother, with incredible audacity. 'Yes, on what proofs?' cried my unfortunate father. 'The torture I suffer must be brought to a close.'

"'I have not come here without proofs, my lord,' said Sir Walter. 'And these proofs the answers of this wretch will furnish directly.' Then Sir Walter spoke to Dr. Polidori in German, who seemed to have recovered a little assurance, but lost it immediately."

* * * * * * *

"What did you say to him?" demanded Rudolph, laying aside the letter for a moment.

"Some significant words to this effect: 'You escaped by flight the sentence pronounced against you in the grand duchy; you live in the Rue du Temple, under the false name of Bradamanti; your present occupation is unknown; you poisoned the count's first wife; three days ago Madame d'Orbigny came to bring you here to poison her husband. His serene highness is in Paris, and has the proofs of all I advance. If you confess the truth, so as to convict this miserable woman, you may hope, not pardon, but some mitigation of the punishment you deserve; you must follow me to Paris, where I will place you in security, until his royal highness decides your fate. Otherwise two things; one, the prince will demand you from the government, or this moment I will send to the neighboring town for a magistrate; this vial containing poison, shall be placed in his hands; you will be arrested at once, your lodgings in the Rue du Temple searched; you know how much that will compromise you, and French justice shall follow its course. Choose then.' These revelations, accusations, and threats, that he knew well-founded, succeeding one another so rapidly, confounded this miscreant, who did not expect to find me so well informed. In the hope of lessening the punishment which awaited him, he did not hesitate to sacrifice his accomplice, and answered, 'Interrogate me—I will tell the truth concerning this woman.'"

"Well, well, my worthy friend, I expected no less from you."

"During my interview with Polidori, the features of Madame d'Orbigny changed their expression of assurance alarmingly, although she did not understand German. She saw, from the increasing dejection of her confederate, from his supplicating attitude, that I had him in my power. In great anxiety, she endeavored to catch the eye of Polidori, in order to give him courage or to implore his discretion, but he avoided her glances."

"And the count?"

"His emotion was indescribable; with his contracted fingers he clutched, convulsively, the arm of his chair, the perspiration standing on his forehead: he hardly breathed; his burning and glazed eyes were fixed on mine; his agony equaled that of his wife. The continuation of the letter of Madame d'Harville will instruct your highness as to the end of this painful scene."

Rudolph resumed the perusal of the letter. "After a conversation in German, which lasted for some moments, Sir Walter said to Polidori, 'Now answer, was it not madame,' and he pointed at my step-mother, 'who, at the time of the illness of my lord's first wife, introduced you in the house as a physician?' 'Yes, it was she,' answered Polidori.

"'In order to serve the fearful projects of madame, have you not been criminal enough to render mortal (by your homicidal prescriptions) the slight illness of the Countess d'Orbigny?' 'Yes,' said Polidori.

"My father uttered a heart-rending sigh, raised his two hands toward heaven, and let them fall, quite overwhelmed. 'Falsehoods and infamy!' cried my stepmother; 'all this is false; they conspire to ruin me!' 'Silence, madame!' said Sir Walter, in an imposing voice; then, continuing to question Polidori:

"'Is it true, that three days ago, madame went to seek you at No. 17
Rue du Temple, where you reside, concealed under the false name of
Bradamanti?'

"'That is true.'

"'Did not madame propose to you to come here to murder the Count d'Orbigny, as you had murdered his wife?'

"'Alas! I cannot deny it,' said Polidori. "'At this overwhelming revelation, my father arose on his feet; he showed the door to my step-mother; then, extending his arms toward me, he cried, in a broken voice, 'In the name of your unfortunate mother, pardon me, pardon me! I have caused you much suffering; but I swear to you I was a stranger to the crime which has conducted her to the tomb.'

"And before I could prevent him, he fell at my feet.

"When Sir Walter and myself raised him, he had fainted. I rang for the servants. Sir Walter took the doctor by the arm, and went out with him, saying to my step-mother, 'Believe me, madame, you had better leave this house before an hour, or I will deliver you up to justice.'

"The wretched woman left the room in a state of alarm and rage which your highness will easily conceive.

"When my father recovered his senses, all that had taken place appeared like a horrid dream. I was under the sad necessity of relating to him my first suspicions concerning the premature death of my mother—suspicions which your highness's knowledge of the previous crimes of Dr. Polidori changed into certainty.

"I was obliged, also, to tell my father how my stepmother had carried her hatred even to my marriage, and what had been her object in causing me to marry M. d'Harville.

"As much as my father had shown himself weak and blind respecting this woman, just so much he wished to treat her without mercy; he accused himself, with despair, of having been the accomplice of this monster, in giving her his hand after the death of my mother. He wished to give her up to justice; I represented to him the odious notoriety of such proceedings. I engaged him to drive her away forever from his presence, allowing her just enough for her support, since she bore his name.

"I had great trouble in procuring my father's consent to this; he wished me to turn her out of the house. This mission would be doubly painful; I thought that Sir Walter, perhaps, would act for me. He consented."

"And I consented with joy," said Murphy to Rudolph; "nothing pleases me more than to give to the wicked this kind of extreme unction."

"And what did this woman say?"

"Madame d'Harville had carried her goodness so far as to ask from her father a pension of one hundred louis for this creature. This appeared to me not goodness, but weakness; it was bad enough to rob justice of such a dangerous woman. I went to find the count; he coincided entirely with me; it was agreed that we should give, in all, twenty-five louis to the infamous wretch, so that she might subsist until she found employment. 'And what kind of employment can the Countess d'Orbigny find?' demanded she, insolently. 'That's your business; you might be something like a nurse or housekeeper; but, believe me, seek the most humble and obscure calling; for if you have the audacity to tell your title, which you owe to a crime, people will be astonished to see the Countess d'Orbigny reduced to such a condition; they will inquire, and you can judge of the consequences, if you are fool enough to noise abroad the past. Conceal yourself in some distant place; cause yourself to be forgotten; become Madame Pier re or Madame Jacques, and repent—if you can.' 'And do you think, sir,' said she to me, 'that I shall not claim the advantages secured to me by my marriage contract?' 'Certainly, madame, nothing can be more just; it would be unworthy of M. d'Orbigny not to execute his promises, and not to recognize all that you have done for him, and all you would have done. Sue, sue; address yourself to justice; I have no doubt the decision will be against your husband. A quarter of an hour after our conversation, the creature was on the road to the neighboring town."

"You are right; it is painful to allow such a woman to escape with impunity; but the scandal of such a trial for this old man, already so much debilitated, is not to be thought of."

"I have easily persuaded my father to leave Les Aubiers to-day," resumed Rudolph, continuing to read the letter from Madame d'Harville: "too many sad recollections attend him here; although his health is delicate, the journey and change of air may be of service, as the physician says who has taken the place of Dr. Polidori. My father wished that he should analyze the contents of the vial, without informing him of what had passed; he answered that he could only do this at his own house, but that in two hours we should know the result. This was, that several doses of this liquid, prepared with infernal skill, would, in a given time, produce death, without leaving any traces.

"In a few hours I leave with my father and daughter for Fontainebleau; we will remain there for some time; then, according to the wish of my father, we return to Paris, but not to my own house; it will be impossible for me to live there after the deplorable accident which has taken place.

"Thus, as I have said, on commencing this letter, events show all that I owe to your highness's solicitude. Warned by you, aided by your advice, strong in the co-operation of your excellent and courageous Sir Walter, I have been able to snatch my father from certain death, and I am assured of the return of his tenderness.

"Adieu! it is impossible for me to say more, my heart is too full: too many emotions agitate it; I should badly express all that I feel.

"D'ORBIGNY D'HARVILLE.

"I open this letter in haste, your highness, to repair a neglect of which I am ashamed. In seeking, by your noble advice, to do some good, I went to the prison of Saint Lazare to visit the poor prisoners. I found there an unfortunate child in whom you are interested; Her angelic sweetness and pious resignation are the admiration of the matron who overlooks the inmates. To inform you where the Goualeuse (such I believe is her name) can be found is to request you to obtain her liberty. This unfortunate girl will relate to you by what a concourse of sinister circumstances, carried away from the asylum where you had placed her, she has been thrown into this prison, where she is appreciated for the purity of her conduct. Permit me also to recall to your highness's mind my two future protegees the unhappy mother and daughter—despoiled by the notary Ferrand, Where are they? Have you had any information concerning them? Oh, I pray you endeavor to discover them, so that on my return to Paris I can pay them the debt which I have contracted toward all unfortunates!"

"Goualeuse has, then, left the farm of Bouqueval?" cried Murphy, as much astonished as Rudolph at this new revelation.

"I heard but just now that she was seen coming out of Saint Lazare," answered Rudolph. "I am lost in conjecture; the silence of Madame George confounds and distresses me. Poor little Fleur-de-Marie, what new misfortunes have happened to you? Let a man on horseback be sent off at once to the farm, and write to Madame George that I beg her to come at once to Paris. Say also to M. de Graun, I wish an order to enter Saint Lazare. From what Madame d'Harville writes, Fleur-de-Marie is confined there; but no," said Rudolph, reflecting, "she is no longer a prisoner, for Rigolette saw her come out in company with an aged woman. Can it be Madame George? Otherwise, who is the woman? Where is the Goualeuse gone to?"

"Patience, my lord; before to-night you shall know all about it. To-morrow you will have to interrogate this scoundrel Polidori; he has, he said, important communications to make to you, but to you alone."

"The interview will be hateful to me," said Rudolph, sadly; "for I have never seen this man since the fatal day—when—"

Rudolph could not finish; he concealed his face in his hands.

"Why consent to what Polidori demands? Threaten him with the French courts, or an extradition on the Government; he must resign himself to confess to me what he is only willing to confess to you."

"You are right, my good friend; for the sight of this wretch would render still more torturing these terrible recollections, to which are attached so many incurable griefs; from the death of my father to that of my poor little girl—I do not know but that the more I advance in life, the more I feel the loss of this child. How I should have adored her! how dear and precious to me had been this fruit of my first love, of my first and pure belief, or, rather, my young illusions!"

"Stay, my lord; I see with pain the increasing sway which these regrets, as fruitless as cruel, have upon your mind."

After a pause, Rudolph said to Murphy: "I can now make a confession to you, my old friend. I love—yes, I love passionately a woman worthy of the most noble and devoted affection. Ah! it is since my heart is opened anew to all the delights of love, since I am predisposed to tender emotions, that I feel more vividly the loss of my daughter."

"Nothing can be plainer, my lord; and, pardon the comparison, but, in the same manner as certain men are joyous and benevolent in their intoxication, you are good and generous in your love."

"Yet my hatred of the wicked is also become deep; my aversion to Sarah increases, doubtless with my grief for the death of my child. I imagine that this bad mother has neglected her; that her ambitious hopes once ruined by my marriage, the countess, in her selfish egotism, has abandoned our child to mercenary hands, and that my daughter perhaps died from want of care. It is also my fault; I did not then know the extent of the sacred duties of paternity. When the true character of Sarah was suddenly revealed to me, I should have at once taken my daughter from her, to watch over her with love and solicitude. I ought to have foreseen that the countess could never be more than an unnatural mother. It is my fault, my fault!"

"Grief causes your highness to err. Could you, after such a fatal event had happened, defer for one day the long journey imposed on you—as—"

"As an expiation! You are right, my friend," said Rudolph, sorrowfully.

"Have you heard anything from the countess since my departure, my lord?"

"No: since her infamous accusations, which twice came near proving the ruin of Madame d'Harville, I have no news of her. Her presence here annoys me; it seems that my evil spirit is near me, that some new misfortune threatens me."

"Patience, your highness, patience. Happily, Germany is interdicted for her, and Germany expects us."

"Yes; we will soon depart. At least, during my short stay at Paris I shall have accomplished a sacred duty: I shall have made some steps more in the worthy path which an august and merciful will pointed out to me for my redemption. As soon as the son of Madame George shall be restored to her arms, innocent and free; as soon as Jacques Ferrand shall be convicted and punished for his crimes; as soon as I shall be assured of the future comforts of all the honest and industrious creatures who, by their resignation, their courage, and their probity, have deserved my interest, we will return to Germany—my journey will not have been fruitless."

"Above all, if you succeed in unmasking that abominable Jacques
Ferrand, the corner-stone of so many crimes."

"Although the end justifies the means, and scruples should have no weight as regards this scoundrel, sometimes I regret having employed Cecily in this just and avenging reparation."

"She ought to arrive soon."

"She has arrived."

"Cecily?"

"Yes; I did not wish to see her. De Graun has given her very detailed instructions; she has promised to conform to them."

"Will she keep this promise?"

"Everything seems to promise it—the hope of a mitigation of her punishment, and the fear of being sent immediately back to Germany; for De Graun has her well watched; at the slightest misstep he will demand her of the government."

"It is just. She has arrived like an escaped convict: when they know what crimes caused her perpetual imprisonment, they would give her up at once."

"Besides, De Graun was almost alarmed at the sagacity with which Cecily comprehended, or rather, guessed the part, inflaming and yet platonic, she was to play at the notary's.

"But can she be introduced to him as early as you wish, through Mrs.
Pipelet? People of the species of Jacques Ferrand are so suspicious."

"I had, with reason, counted on the appearance of Cecily to combat and conquer this suspicion."

"Has he already seen her?"

"Yesterday. From the account given by Mrs. Pipelet, I do not doubt but that he was fascinated by the Creole; he took her at once into his service."

"Come, my lord, our game is won."

"I hope so; a ferocious cupidity and a savage thirst have led the executioner of Louise Morel to the most frightful misdeeds. It is in them that he will find the punishment of his crimes. A punishment which will not be barren for his victims; for you see the aim of all the efforts of the Creole."

"Cecily! Never did greater depravity, never a more dangerous corruption, never a blacker soul serve to the accomplishment of a project of higher morality, or of a more equitable end; and David, my lord?"

"He approves of all. With all the contempt and horror which he has for this creature, he only sees in her the instrument of a just vengeance. 'If this cursed woman can ever merit any compassion after all the injury she has done me,' said he to me, 'it will be in devoting herself to the punishment of this scoundrel, for whom she must be an exterminating demon.'" A servant having tapped at the door, Murphy went out, and returned, bringing in two letters, one of which seemed intended for Rudolph.

"It is a line from Madame George!" cried he, reading it rapidly.

"Well, Goualeuse?"

"No more doubt," cried Rudolph, after having read the letter; "another mysterious plot. The same evening on which the poor child disappeared, at the moment Madame George was about to inform me of the event, a man, whom she did not know, arrived express on horseback, came to her, as from me, to reassure her, saying I was informed of the sudden departure of Fleur-de-Marie, and that some day I would bring her back to the farm. Notwithstanding this notice, Madame George, uneasy at my silence respecting her protegee cannot, she writes me, resist her desire to have some news of her cherished daughter, as she calls the poor child."

"This is strange, my lord."

"For what end should she have been carried off?"

"My lord," said Murphy, suddenly, "the Countess M'Gregor is no stranger to this affair."

"Sarah? What makes you think so?"

"Compare this with her denunciations to Madame d'Harville."

"You are right," cried Rudolph, a new light bursting upon him; it's evident: I comprehend now; yes, always the same calculation. The countess persists in believing, that by succeeding in breaking every tie of affection, she will make me feel the want of her. This is as odious as useless. Yet such an unworthy prosecution must have an end. It is not only against me, but against all who merit respect, interest, and pity, that this woman directs her attacks. You will send M. de Graun at once, officially, to the countess; he will declare to her that I am advised of the part she has taken in the abduction of Fleur-de-Marie, and that if she does not give me the necessary information, so that I can recover this unhappy child, I shall act without pity, and then it is to justice M. de Graun must address himself."

"From the letter of Madame d'Harville, the Goualeuse must be confined at Saint Lazare."

"Yes, but Rigolette affirms that she saw her free, coming out of this prison. There is a mystery to be cleared up."

"I will go at once and give your highness's orders to Baron de Graun; but allow me to open this letter; it is from my correspondent at Marseilles, to whom I recommended the Chourineur, to facilitate the passage of the poor fellow to Algiers."

"Well! has he gone?"

"Here is something singular."

"What is it?"

"After having waited at Marseilles a long time for a vessel to depart for Algiers, the Chourineur, who seemed every day more sad and thoughtful, suddenly declared, the day being fixed for his departure, that he preferred to return to Paris."

"How singular!"

"Although my correspondent had, as was agreed upon, placed a considerable sum of money at the disposal of the Chourineur, he only took what was absolutely necessary for him to return to Paris, where he will soon arrive, as they write me."

"Then he will explain to us himself why he has changed his mind, but send De Graun at once to the Countess M'Gregor, and go yourself to Saint Lazare to gain some information concerning Fleur-de-Marie." In an hour's time the Baron de Graun returned from the countess's.

Notwithstanding his habitual and official sang froid, the diplomatist seemed troubled; hardly had the usher announced him, than Rudolph remarked his paleness. "Well! De Graun, what is the matter? have you seen her?"

"Oh! my lord."

"What is it?"

"Will your royal highness pardon me for informing you so suddenly of an event so fatal, so unlooked for, so—

"The countess is dead?"

"No, my lord, but her life is despaired of; she has been stabbed with a dagger."

"Oh! it is frightful!" cried Rudolph, touched with pity, notwithstanding his aversion to Sarah. "Who has committed this crime?"

"No one knows, my lord; the murder was accompanied by robbery; some one entered the apartment and carried off a large quantity of jewels."

"And how is she now?"

"Her life is almost despaired of, my lord; she has not yet recovered her consciousness. Her brother is in a state of distraction."

"You must go every day to inquire after her, my dear De Graun."

At this moment Murphy returned from Saint Lazare.

"Learn sad news!" said Rudolph to him; "the countess has been wounded! her life is in great danger."

"Oh! my lord; although she is very culpable, yet I cannot but pity her."

"Yes; such an end would be frightful! And the Goualeuse?"

"Set at liberty yesterday, my lord, supposed by the intervention of
Madame d'Harville."

"But it is impossible! Madame d'Harville begs me, on the contrary, to make the necessary arrangements to get her out of prison."

"Doubtless; and yet, an aged woman, of respectable, appearance, came to Saint Lazare, bringing the order to set Fleur-de-Marie at liberty. Both have left the prison."

"This is what Rigolette told me; but this aged woman, who is she? where have they gone to? what is this new mystery? The countess alone can enlighten us; and she is in a state to give us no information. May she not carry this secret with her to the grave?"

"But her brother, Thomas Seyton, could certainly throw some light upon the affair. He has always been her adviser."

"His sister is dying; some new plot is on foot; he will not speak; but," said Rudolph, reflecting, "we must find out the name of the person who applied for her release; thus we can learn something."

"Yes, my lord."

"Try, then, to know and see this person as soon as possible, my dear De Graun; if you do not succeed, put your M. Badinot on the trail; spare nothing to discover the poor child."

"Your highness may count on my zeal."

"My lord," said Murphy, "it is, perhaps, as well that the Chourineur returns; we may need his services for these researches."

"You are right; and now I am impatient to see arrive at Paris my brave deliverer, the gallant, 'Slasher,' for I shall never forget that to him I owe my life."

* * * * * * *

Forced to extend the unfoldings of the evil and good machinations of the Grand-Duke Rudolph and his enemies into another volume, we do so, promising that even more singular characters, even more striking actions and engaging scenes, will be found in "Part Third: Night."