Read La clique dorée. English Page 21


  XXI.

  Dear woman! She would not have gone to bed so quietly, nor have fallenasleep so comfortably, if she had suspected the truth.

  What gave her such perfect peace was the certainty she had, thatHenrietta had left the house bareheaded, with wretched, worn-out shoeson her feet, with nothing but one petticoat, and her thin alpacadress on her body. Now, she was quite sure, that in such a state ofdestitution, and in this cold December night, the poor young girl wouldsoon be weary wandering through the streets of Paris, and would beirresistibly drawn to the waters of the Seine.

  But it was by no means so. When Henrietta was alone, after the departureof Papa Ravinet, she had only become confirmed in her determination totrust in him blindly: she had even forborne to think it over, as shehad, humanly speaking, no other choice on earth. Thus, after havingreceived Mrs. Chevassat's visit, and after having played the partassigned to her by the old dealer, she rose, and, although quiteexhausted yet, took her place at the window to watch for the propertime. Four o'clock struck; and, as it was growing dark, the conciergecame out, with a light in his hand, and went up the big staircase tolight the lamps.

  "Now is the time!" she said to herself.

  And casting a last look at this wretched room, where she had suffered somuch, and wept so much, and where she had expected to die, she slippedout. The back stairs were quite dark, and thus she was not recognizedby two persons whom she met. The court was deserted, and the concierge'sroom locked. She crossed the hall, and at one bound was in the street.Some forty paces to the left she could see the place where Papa Ravinetwas waiting for her in his cab. She ran there, got in; and the driver,who had received his instructions, whipped his horses as soon as heheard the door shut.

  "And now, sir," she began, "where do you take me?"

  By the light of the gas in the stores, which from time to time lightedup the interior of the carriage, she could see the features of herneighbor. He looked at her with manifest satisfaction; and a smile offriendly malice played upon his lips.

  "Ah!" he replied, "that is a great secret. But you will know soon, forthe man drives well."

  The poor horses went, indeed, as fast as if the dollar which the driverhad received had infused the noble blood of the fastest racer into theirveins. They drove down the whole long street at a furious rate, turnedto the right, and, after many more turns, stopped at last before a houseof modest appearance. Lightly and promptly, like a sheriff's clerk, PapaRavinet jumped out; and, having aided Henrietta to alight, he offeredher his arm, and drew her into the house, saying,--

  "You will see what a surprise I have in store for you."

  In the third story the old man stopped; and, drawing a key from hispocket, he opened the door which faced the staircase. And, before shehad time to consider, Henrietta found herself gently pushed into a smallsitting-room, where a middle-aged lady was embroidering at a frame bythe light of a large copper lamp.

  "Dear sister," said Papa Ravinet, still in the door, "here is the younglady of whom I spoke to you, and who does us the honor to accept ourhospitality."

  Slowly the elderly lady put her needle into the canvas, pushed back theframe, and rose.

  She seemed to be about fifty years old, and must have been beautifulformerly. But age and sorrow had blanched her hair, and furrowed herface; and the habit of silence and meditation seemed to have sealed herlips forever. Her stern countenance, nevertheless, expressed kindliness.She was dressed in black; and her costume betrayed a lady from aprovincial town.

  "You are welcome, madam," she said in a grave voice. "You will find inour modest home that peace and that sympathy which you need."

  In the meantime, Papa Ravinet had come forward; and, bowing toHenrietta, he said,--

  "I beg to present to you Mrs. Bertolle, my dearly beloved sister Mary, awidow, and a saint, who has devoted herself to her brother, and who hassacrificed to him every thing,--her fortune, her peace, and her life."

  Ah! there was no mistaking the look with which the old man caressed theold lady: he worshipped her. But she interrupted him, as if embarrassedby his praise, saying,--

  "You have told me so late, Anthony, that I have not been able to attendto all of your orders. But the young lady's room is ready, and if youchoose"--

  "Yes, we must show her the way."

  The old lady having taken the lamp, after removing the screen, opened adoor which led from the parlor directly into a small, modestly furnishedroom, which shone with exquisite tidiness, and which exhaled that freshodor of lavender so dear to all housekeepers from the country. Themirrors and the furniture all glistened alike in the bright fire on thehearth; and the curtains were as white as snow.

  At one glance the old dealer had taken in every thing; and, after asmile of gratitude addressed to his sister, he said to Henrietta,--

  "This is your room, madam."

  The poor girl, all overcome, sought in vain for words to express hergratitude. The old lady did not give her time. She showed her, spreadout on the bed, petticoats, white linen, stockings, a warm dressing-wrapper of gray flannel with blue flowers, and at the foot a pair ofslippers.

  "This will answer for a change to-night, madam," she said. "I haveprovided what was most pressing; to-morrow we will see about the rest."

  Big tears, tears of happiness and gratitude, this time, rolled downHenrietta's pale cheeks. Oh, indeed! this was a surprise, and adelicious one, which the ingenious foresight of her new friend hadprepared for her.

  "Ah, you are so kind!" she said, giving her hands to brother andsister--"you are so kind! How can I ever repay what you are doing forme?"

  Then overcoming her emotion, and turning to Papa Ravinet, she added,--

  "But pray, who are you, sir,--you who thus come to succor, a pooryoung girl who is an utter stranger to you, doubling the value of yourassistance by your great delicacy?"

  The old lady replied in his place,--"My brother, madam, is anunfortunate man, who has paid for a moment's forgetfulness of duty, withhis happiness, his prospects, and _his_ very life. Do not question him.Let him be for you what he is for all of us,--Anthony Ravinet, dealer incuriosities."

  The voice of the old lady betrayed such great sorrow, silently endured,that Henrietta looked ashamed, regretting her indiscretion. But the oldman at once said,--

  "What I may say to you madam, is, that you owe me no gratitude,--no,none whatever. What I do, my own interest commands me to do; and Ideserve no credit for it. Why do you speak of gratitude? It is I whoshall forever be under obligations to you for the immense service whichyou render me."

  He seemed to be inspired by his own words; his figure straightened up;his eyes flashed fire; and he was on the point of letting, perhaps,some secret escape him, when his sister interrupted him, sayingreproachfully,--

  "Anthony, Anthony!"

  He stopped at once. Then he resumed,--

  "You are right; you are right! I forget myself here; and I ought to bealready back in Water Street. It is of the utmost importance that thatwoman Chevassat should not miss me a moment to-night."

  He was about to leave them, when the old lady held him back, and said,--

  "You ought to go back, I know; only be careful! It is a miracle that M.de Brevan has never met you and recognized you, during the year he hasbeen coming to the house in which you live. If such a misfortune shouldhappen now, our enemies might once more escape us. After the younglady's desperate act, he would not fail to recognize the man who hassaved her. What can you do to avoid meeting him?"

  "I have thought of that danger," he replied. "When I go back, I shalltell the two Chevassats a little story, which will frighten them, sothat they will advise Brevan never to appear there, except at night, ashe formerly did."

  Thereupon he bowed to Henrietta, and went away with the words,--

  "To-morrow we will consult with each other."

  The shipwrecked man who is saved at the last moment, when, strength andspirits being alike exhausted, he feels himself sinking into the abyss,cannot
, upon feeling once more firm ground under his feet, experiencea sense of greater happiness than Henrietta did that night. For thedelicious sensation had become deeper and intenser by the evening spentin company with Papa Ravinet's sister.

  The widow, free from embarrassment as from affectation, possessed aquiet dignity which appeared in certain words and ways she had, andwhich made Henrietta guess the principal events of her life. Ruined allof a sudden,--she did not say how,--some months after the death of herhusband, she, who had been accustomed to all the comforts of opulencehad seen herself reduced to poverty, and all its privations. This hadhappened about five years ago. Since then she had imposed upon herselfthe strictest economy, although she never neglected her appearance. Shehad but one servant, who came every morning to clean up the house;she herself did all the other work, washing and ironing her own linen,cooking only twice a week, and eating cold meat on the other days, asmuch to save money as to save time.

  For her time had its value. She worked on her frame patterns forembroideries, for which a fashionable store paid her very good prices.There were days in summer when she earned three francs.

  The blow had been a severe one; she did not conceal it. Gradually,however, she had become reconciled to it, and taken up this habit ofeconomizing with unflinching severity, and down to the smallestdetails. At present, she felt in these very privations a kind of secretsatisfaction which results from the sense of having accomplished aduty,--a satisfaction all the greater, the harder the duty is.

  What duty, she did not say.

  "That lady is a noble creature among many!" said Henrietta to herselfthat night, when she retired after a modest repast.

  Still she could not get over the mystery which surrounded the lives ofthese two personages, whom fate, relenting at last, had placed in herway. What was the mystery in the past of this brother and sister? Forthere was one; and, so far from trying to conceal it, they had beggedHenrietta not to inquire into it. And how was their past connectedwith her own past? How could their future depend in any way on her ownfuture?

  But fatigue soon made an end to her meditations, and confused her ideas;and, for the first time in two years, she fell asleep with a senseof perfect security; she slept peacefully, without starting at theslightest noise, without being troubled by silence, without wonderingwhether her enemies were watching her, without suspecting the very wallsof her room.

  When she awoke next morning, calm and refreshed, it was broad daylight,nearly ten o'clock; and a pale ray of the sun was playing over thepolished furniture. When she opened her eyes, she saw the dealer'ssister standing at the foot of her bed, like a good genius who had beenwatching over her slumbers.

  "Oh, how lazy I am!" she exclaimed with the hearty laugh of a child; forshe felt quite at home in this little bedroom, where she had only spenta night; she felt as much at home here as in her father's palace whenher mother was still alive; and it seemed to her as if she had livedhere many a year.

  "My brother was here about half an hour ago to talk with you," said theold lady; "but we did not like to wake you. You needed repose so much!He will be back in the evening, and dine with us."

  The bright smile which had lighted up Henrietta's face went outinstantly. Absorbed in the happiness of the moment, she had forgottenevery thing; and these few words brought her back to the reality ofher position, and recalled to her the sufferings of the past and theuncertainty of the future.

  The good widow in the meantime assisted her in getting up; and theyspent the day together in the little parlor, busily cutting out andmaking up a black silk dress for which Papa Ravinet had brought thematerial in the morning, and which was to take the place of Henrietta'smiserable, worn-out, alpaca dress. When the young girl had first seenthe silk, she had remembered all the kind widow had told her of theirexcessive economy, and with difficulty only succeeded in checking hertears.

  "Why should you go to such an expense?" she had said very sadly. "Wouldnot a woollen dress have done quite as well? The hospitality which youoffer me must in itself be quite a heavy charge upon you. I should neverforgive myself for becoming a source of still greater privations to suchvery kind friends."

  But the old lady shook her head, and replied,--

  "Don't be afraid, child. We have money enough."

  They had just lighted the lamp, when they heard a key in the outer door;and a moment later Papa Ravinet appeared. He was very red; and, althoughit was freezing outdoors, he was streaming with perspiration.

  "I am exhausted," he said, sinking into, an armchair, and wiping hisforehead with his broad checkered handkerchief. "You cannot imagine howI have been running about to-day! I wanted to take an omnibus to comehome, but they were all full."

  Henrietta jumped up, and exclaimed,--

  "You have been to see my father?"

  "No, madam. A week ago already, Count Ville-Handry left his palace."

  A mad thought, the hope that her father might have separated from hiswife, crossed Henrietta's mind.

  "And the countess," she asked,--"the Countess Sarah?"

  "She has gone with her husband. They live in Peletier Street, in amodest apartment just above the office of the Pennsylvania PetroleumCompany. Sir Thorn and Mrs. Brian are there also. They have only kepttwo servants,--Ernest, the count's valet, and a certain Clarissa."

  The name of the vile creature whose treachery had been one of theprincipal causes of Henrietta's misfortunes did not strike her ear.

  "How could my father ever be induced to leave his home?" she asked.

  "He sold it, madam, ten days ago."

  "Great God! My father must be ruined!"

  The old man bowed his head.

  "Yes!"

  Thus were the sad presentiments realized which she had felt when firstshe had heard Count Ville-Handry speak of the Pennsylvania PetroleumCompany. But never, oh, never! would she have imagined so sudden adownfall.

  "My father ruined!" she repeated, as if she were unable to realize theprecise meaning of these words.

  "And only a year ago he had more than a hundred thousand dollars a year.Six millions swallowed up in twelve months!--six millions!"

  And as the enormous amount seemed to be out of all proportion to theshortness of time, she said,--

  "It cannot be. You must be mistaken, sir; they have misled you."

  A smile of bitter irony passed over the old dealer's lips. He replied,as if much puzzled by Henrietta's doubts,--

  "What, madam, you do not see yet? Alas! what I tell you is but too true;and, if you want proofs"--

  He drew a newspaper from his pocket and handed it to Henrietta, pointingout to her on the first page an article marked with a red pencil.

  "There!" he said.

  It was one of those financial sheets which arise every now and then, andwhich profess to teach the art of becoming rich in a very short time,without running any risk. This paper bore a title calculated to reassureits readers. It was called "Prudence." Henrietta read aloud,--

  "We shall never tire repeating to our subscribers the words whichform our motto and our heading, 'Prudence, prudence! Do not trust newenterprises!'

  "Out of a hundred enterprises which appear in the market, it may safelybe said that sixty are nothing but the simplest kind of wells, intowhich the capital of foolhardy speculators is sunk almost instantly.Out of the remaining forty, twenty-five may be looked upon as suspiciousenterprises, partaking too much of gambling speculations. Among the lastfifteen even, a careful choice must be made before we find out the fewthat present safe guarantees."

  The young girl paused, not understanding a word of all this stuff. Butthe old man said,--

  "That is only the honey of the preface, the sweet syrup intended toconceal the bitterness of the medicine that is to follow. Go on, and youwill understand."

  She continued to read,--

  "A recent event, we ought to say a recent disaster, has just confirmedour doctrines, and justifies but too clearly our admonition to becareful.

  "A company
which started into existence last year with amazingsuddenness, which filled the whole world with its flamingadvertisements, crowding the newspapers, and decorating thestreet-corners,--a company which was most surely to enrich itsstockholders, is already no longer able to pay the interest on itspaid-up capital.

  "As to the capital itself--but we will not anticipate events.

  "All of our readers will have understood that we are speaking of theFranco-American Society of Pennsylvania Oil-Wells, which for the lasteight days has been the subject of universal excitement.

  "On 'Change the shares of a hundred dollars are quoted at 4-to-5."

  Blinding tears prevented Henrietta from going on. "Great God!" sheexclaimed. "O God!" Then, mastering her weakness, she began once more toread,--

  "And yet if ever any company seemed to offer all the material andmoral guarantees which we can desire before risking our carefully savedearnings, this company presented them.

  "It had at its head a man who in his day was looked up to as a statesmanendowed with rare administrative talents, and whose reputation as a manof sterling integrity seemed to lie above all suspicion.

  "Need we say that this was the 'high and mighty Count Ville-Handry'?

  "Hence they did not spare this great and noble name, but proclaimedit aloud on the housetops. It was the Count Ville-Handry here, and theCount Ville-Handry there. He was to bestow upon the country a new branchof industry. He was to change vile petroleum into precious gold.

  "It was especially brought into notice that the noble count's personalfortune was nearly equal to the whole capital of the new company,--tenmillions. Hence he was risking his own money rather than the money ofothers.

  "It is now a year since these dazzling promises were made. What remainsof them all? Shares, worth five dollars yesterday, worth, perhaps,nothing at all to-morrow, and a more than doubtful capital.

  "Who could have expected in our day a new edition of Law's MississippiScheme?"

  The paper fell from the hands of the poor girl. She had turned as paleas death, and was staggering so, that Papa Ravinet's sister took her inher arms to support her.

  "Horrible," she murmured; "this is horrible!" Still she had not yet readall. The old man picked up the paper, and read from another article,below the lines which carried poison in every word, the followingcomments:--

  "Two delegates of the stockholders of the Pennsylvania Petroleum Companywere to sail this morning from Brest for New York.

  "These gentlemen have been sent out by their fellow-sufferers to examinethe lands on which the oil-wells are situated which constitute the onlysecurity of the shareholders. Certain people have gone so far as todoubt even the existence of such oil-wells."

  And in another place, under the head of local items:--

  "The palace of Count Ville-Handry was sold last week. This magnificentbuilding, with the princely real estate belonging to it, was knockeddown to the highest bidder for the sum of one hundred and seventy-fivethousand dollars. The misfortune is, that house and lot are burdenedwith mortgages, which amount together to nearly a hundred thousanddollars."

  Henrietta was overcome, and had sunk into a chair.

  "But that is simply infamous," she stammered out in an almost inaudibletone. "Nobody will believe such atrocious libels."

  Pale and deeply grieved, Papa Ravinet and his sister exchanged looks ofdistress. Evidently the poor girl did not at all realize the terriblenature of the circumstances. And yet, seeing her thus crushed, they didnot dare to enlighten her. At last the old dealer, knowing but toowell that uncertainty is more agonizing than the most painful reality,said,--

  "Your father is fearfully calumniated. But I have tried to informmyself. Two facts are but too certain. Count Ville-Handry is ruined; andthe shares of the company of which he is the president have fallen tofive dollars, because"--

  His voice changed, and he added in a very low tone,--

  "Because it is believed that the capital of the company has beenappropriated to other purposes, and lost in speculations on 'Change."

  The poor old dealer was suffering intensely, and showed it.

  "Ah, madam, perfectly as I am convinced of Count Ville-Handry'suprightness and integrity, I also know that he was utterly ignorant ofbusiness. What did he understand of these speculations into which he wasdrawn? Nothing. It is a difficult and often a dangerous thing to managelarge capitals. They have no doubt deceived him, cheated him, misledhim, and driven him at last to the verge of bankruptcy."

  "Who?"

  Papa Ravinet trembled on his chair, and, raising his hands to theceiling, exclaimed,--

  "Who? You ask who? Why, those who had an interest in it, the wretches bywhom he was surrounded,--Sarah, Sir Thorn"--

  Henrietta shook her head and said,--

  "_I_ do not think the Countess Sarah looked with a favorable eye uponthe formation of this company."

  And, when objection was made, she went on,--

  "Besides, what interest could she have in ruining my father? Evidentlynone. To ruin him was to ruin herself, since she was absolute mistressof her fortune, and free to dispose of it as she chose."

  Proud of the accuracy of her decision, she was looking triumphantly atthe old dealer. The latter saw now that he must strike a decisive blow;and his sister encouraged him by a gesture. He said,--

  "Pray, listen to me, madam. So far I have only repeated to you thereport on 'Change. I told you: They say the capital of the PennsylvaniaPetroleum _Company_ has been swallowed up by unlucky speculations on'Change. But I do not believe these reports. I am, on the contrary,convinced, I am quite sure even, that these millions were not lost on'Change, because they never were used for the purpose of speculating."

  "Still"--

  "Still they have disappeared, none the less; and your father isprobably the last man in the world to tell us how and where they havedisappeared. But I know it; and, when the question is raised how torecover these enormous sums, I shall cry out, 'Search Sarah Brandon,Countess Ville-Handry; search M. Thomas Elgin and Mrs. Brian; searchMaxime de Brevan,' the wretched tool of these wicked women!"

  Now at last a terrible light broke upon Henrietta's mind.

  "Then," she stammered, "these infamous slanders are only put out toconceal an impudent robbery?"

  "Yes."

  The young girl's face showed that she was making a great effort tocomprehend; and then she said again,--

  "And in that case, the articles in the papers"--

  "Were written by the wretches who have robbed your father, yes, madam!"And, shaking his fist with a threatening air, he added,--

  "Oh! there is no mistaking it. Since when does this journal exist? Sinceabout six months ago. From the day on which it was established, it wasthe aim and purpose of the founders to publish in it the articles whichyou haven't read."

  Even if she could not well understand by what ingenious combinationssuch enormous sums could be abstracted, Henrietta was conquered by PapaRavinet's sincere and earnest conviction.

  "Then," she went on, "these wretches who have robbed my father now meanto ruin him!"

  "They must do it for their own safety. The money has been stolen, yousee; therefore there must be a thief. For the world, for the courts, theguilty one will be Count Ville-Handry."

  "For the courts?"

  "Alas, yes!"

  The poor girl's eyes went from the brother to the sister with a terribleexpression of bewilderment. At last she asked,--

  "And do you believe Sarah will allow my father's name to be thusdishonored,--the name which she bears, and of which she was so proud?"

  "She will, perhaps, even insist upon it."

  "Great God! What do you mean? Why should she?"

  Seeing her brother's hesitation, the old lady took it upon herself toanswer. She touched the poor girl's arm, and said in a subdued voice,--

  "Because, you see, my poor child, now that Sarah has gotten possessionof the fortune she wanted, your father is in her way; because, you see,she wants to be fr
ee--do you understand?--free!"

  Henrietta uttered a cry of such horror that both the brother and thesister saw at once that she had not misunderstood the horrible meaningof that word "free."

  But, since the blow had fallen, the old dealer did not think the restneed be concealed from Henrietta. He got up, therefore, and, leaningagainst the mantlepiece, he addressed the poor girl, trembling in allher limbs with terror, and looking at him with a fixed and painful gaze,in these words,--

  "You must at last learn to know, madam, the execrable woman who hassworn to ruin you. You see, I know, because I have experienced itmyself, of what crimes she is capable; and I see clear in the dark nightof her infernal intrigues. I know that this woman with the chaste brow,the open smile, and the soft eyes, has the genius and the instinct of amurderess, and has never counted upon any thing else, but murder for thegratification of her lusts."

  The attitude of the old man, who raised his head on high while hisbreast swelled, breathed in every one of his sharp and threateninggestures an intense thirst of vengeance. He no longer measured his wordscarefully; and they overflowed from his lips as they came boiling upunder the pressure of his rage.

  "Anthony!" said the old lady more than once,--"Anthony, brother! Ibeseech you!"

  But this friendly voice, ordinarily all-powerful, was not even heard byhim now. He went on,--

  "And now, madam, must I still explain to you the simple and yetformidable plan by which Sarah Brandon has succeeded in obtaining by oneeffort the immense fortune of the Ville-Handry family? From the firstday, she has seen that you were standing between her and those millions;therefore she attacked you first of all. A brave and honest man, M.Daniel Champcey, loved you; he would have protected you; therefore shegot him out of the way. The world might have become interested in you,might have taken your side; she beguiled your father, in his blindpassion, to calumniate you, to ruin your reputation, and to expose youto the contempt of the world. Still you might have wished to securea protector, you might have found one. She placed by your side herwretched tool, her spy, a forger, a criminal whom she knew to be ableof doing things from which even an accomplished galley-slave would haveshrunk with disgust and horror: I mean Maxime de Brevan."

  The very excess, of eruption had restored a part of her energy toHenrietta. She said, therefore,--

  "Alas, _sir_! have I not told you, on, the contrary, that Daniel himselfhad confided me to the care of M. de Brevan? Have I not told you"--

  The old dealer smiled almost contemptuously, and then continued,--

  "What does that prove? Nothing but the skill of M. de Brevan in carryingout Sarah Brandon's orders. In order to get the more completely themastery over you, he began by obtaining the mastery over M. Champcey.How he succeeded in doing this, I do not know. But we shall know it whenwe want to know it; for we are going to find out every thing. Thus Sarahwas, through M. de Brevan, kept informed of all your thoughts, of allyour hopes, of _every_ word you wrote to M. Champcey, and of all he saidin reply; for you need not doubt he did answer, and they suppressed theletters, just as they, very probably, intercepted all of your letterswhich you did not yourself carry to the post-office. Still, as long asyou were living under your father's roof, Sarah could do nothing againstyour life. She resolved, therefore, to force you to flee; and those meanpersecutions of M. Elgin served their purpose. You thought, and perhaps,they think, that bandit really wanted your hand. Undeceive yourself.Your enemies knew your character too well to hope that you would everbreak your word, and become faithless to M. Champcey. But they were bentupon handing you over to M. de Brevan. And thus, poor child! you werehanded over to him. Maxime had as little idea of marrying you as SirThomas; he was quite prepared, when he dared to approach you with openarms, to be rejected with disgust. But he had received orders to addthe horror of his persecutions to the horror of your isolation and yourdestitution.

  "For he was quite sure, the scoundrel! that the secret of yoursufferings would be well kept. He had carefully chosen the house inwhich you were to die of hunger and misery. The two Chevassats werebound to be his devoted accomplices, even unto death. This is what gavehim the amazing boldness, the inconceivable brutality, to watch yourslow agony; no doubt he became quite impatient at your delaying suicideso long.

  "Finally you were driven to it; and your death would have realized theiratrocious hopes, if Providence had not miraculously stepped in,--thatProvidence which always, sooner or later, takes its revenge, whateverthe wicked may say to the contrary. Yes, these wretches thought theyhad now surely gotten rid of you, when I came in. That very morning, thewoman Chevassat had told them, no doubt, 'She'll do it to-night!' Andthat evening, Sarah, Mrs. Brian, and M. Elgin asked, no doubt, full ofhope, 'Is it all over?'"

  Immovable, and white as marble, her eyes dilated beyond measure, and herlips half-open, poor Henrietta listened. She felt as if a bright rayof the sun had suddenly illumined the darkest depths of the abyss fromwhich she had been barely snatched.

  "Yes," she said, "yes; now I see it all."

  Then, as the old dealer, out of breath, and his voice hoarse withindignation, paused a moment, she asked,--

  "Still there is one circumstance which I cannot understand: Sarahinsists upon it that she knew nothing of the forged letter by means ofwhich Daniel was sent abroad. She told me, on the contrary, that she hadwished to keep him here, because she loved him, and he loved her."

  "Ah! do not believe a word of those infamous stories," broke in PapaRavinet's sister.

  But the old man scratched his head, and said,--

  "No, certainly not! We ought not to believe such stories. And yet, Iwonder if there is not some new trick in that. Unless, indeed--But no,that would be almost too lucky for us! Unless Sarah should really loveM. Champcey!"

  And, as if he was afraid of having given rise to hopes which he foundedupon this contingency, he added at once,--

  "But let us return to facts. When Sarah was sure of you, she turnedher attention to your father. While they were murdering you slowly, sheabused the inexperience of Count Ville-Handry to lead him into a pathat the end of which he could not but leave his honor behind him. Notice,pray, that the articles which you read are dated on the very day onwhich you would probably have died. That is a clear evidence of hercrime. Thinking that she had gotten rid of you, she evidently said toherself, 'And now for the father.'"

  Henrietta grew red in her face, as if a jet of fire had blazed up in it.She exclaimed,--

  "Great God! The proofs are coming out; the crime will be disclosed.I have no doubt the assassins told each other that Count Ville-Handrywould never survive such a foul stain on his honor. And they dared all,sure as they were that that honorable man would carry the secret oftheir wickedness and of their unheard-of robbery with him to the grave."

  Papa Ravinet leisurely wiped the perspiration from his brow. Then hereplied in a hoarse voice,--

  "Yes, that was probably, that was assuredly, the way Sarah Brandonreasoned within herself."

  But Henrietta, full of admirable energy, had roused herself; and, withflushed cheeks and burning eyes, she said to him,--

  "What! you knew all this? You knew that they were assassinating myfather, and you did not warn him? Ah, that was cruel cautiousness!"

  And quick like lightning she dashed forward, and would have rushed out,if the old lady had not promptly stepped in front of the door, saying,--

  "Henrietta, poor child! where are you going?"

  "To save my father, madam, who, perhaps at this very moment isstruggling in the last agonies of death, as I was struggling in likemanner only two nights ago."

  Quite beside herself, she had clasped the knob of the door in her hands,and tried with all the strength she still possessed to move the old ladyout of the way. But Papa Ravinet seized her by the arm, and said to hersolemnly,--

  "Madam, I swear to you by all you hold sacred, and my sister will swearto you in like manner, that your father's life is in no kind of danger."

  She gave up
the struggle; but her face bore the expression of the mostharassing anxiety. The old man continued,--

  "Do you wish to defeat our triumph? Would you like to give warning toour enemies, to put _them_ on their guard, and to deprive us of allhopes of revenge?"

  Henrietta almost mechanically passed her hand to and fro across herbrow, as if she hoped she could thus restore peace to her mind.

  "And mind," continued the old man with a persuasive voice, "mind thatsuch imprudence would save our enemies, but would not save your father.Pray consider and answer me. Do you really think that your argumentswould be stronger than Sarah Brandon's? You cannot so far underratethe diabolical cunning of your enemy. Why, she has no doubt taken allpossible measures to keep your father's faith in her unshaken, and tolet him die as he has lived, completely deceived by her, and murmuringwith his last breath words of supreme love for her who kills him."

  These arguments were so overwhelming, that Henrietta let go the door-knob, and slowly went back to her seat by the fire. And yet she was farfrom being reassured.

  "If I were to appeal to the police," she suddenly proposed.

  The old lady had come and taken a seat by Henrietta's side. She took herhands in her own now, and said, gently,--

  "Poor child! Do you not see that the whole power of this abominablecreature lies in the fact that she employs means which are not withinthe reach of human justice. Believe me, my child, it is best for you torely blindly on my brother."

  Once more the old dealer had come up to the mantlepiece. He repeated,--

  "Yes, Miss Henrietta, rely on me. I have as much reason to curse SarahBrandon as you have, and perhaps I hate her more. Rely on me; for myhatred has now been watching and waiting for years, ever anxious toreach her, and to avenge my sufferings. Yes, for long years I have beenlying in wait, thirsting for vengeance, lost in darkness, but pursuingher tracks with the unwearied perseverance of the Indian. For thepurpose of finding out who she is, and who her accomplices are,whence they came, and how they have met to plot together such fearfulcrimes,--for that purpose I have walked in the deepest mud, and stirredup heaps of infamy. But I have found out all. And yet in the whole lifeof Sarah Brandon,--a life of theft and murder,--I have till this momentnot found a single fact which would bring her within the reach of thelaw, so cunning is her wickedness."

  His face brightened with an air of triumph; and his voice rose high ashe added,--

  "But now! This time success seemed to her so sure and so easy, that shehas neglected her usual precautions. Eager to enjoy her millions, and,in proportion, weary of playing a comedy of love with your father, shehas been too eager. And she is lost if we, on our side, are not also tooeager.

  "As to your father, madam, I have my reasons for feeling safe about him.According to your mother's marriage contract, and in consequence ofa bequest of a million and a half which were left her by one of heruncles, your father's estate is your debtor to the amount of twomillions; and that sum is invested in mortgages on his estates in Anjou.That sum he cannot touch, even if he is bankrupt. Should he die beforeyou, that sum remains still yours; but, if you die before him, it goesto him. Now Sarah has sworn, in her insatiate cupidity, that she willhave these two millions also."

  "Ah," said Henrietta, "you are right! It is Sarah's interest that myfather should live; and he will live, therefore, as long as she does notknow whether I am dead or alive, in fact, as long as she does not knowwhat has become of me."

  "And she must not know that for some time," chimed in the old man.

  Then laughing his odd, silent laugh,--

  "You ought to see the anxiety of your enemies since you have slippedout of their hands. That woman Chevassat had, last night, come tothe conclusion that you were gone, and gone forever; but this morningmatters looked very differently. Maxime de Brevan had been there, makinga terrible row, and beating her (God forgive him!) because she hadrelaxed in her watchfulness. The rascal! The fellow has been spendingthe whole day in running from the police office to the Morgue, and backagain. Destitute as you were, and almost without clothes, what couldhave become of you? I, for my part, did not show; and the Chevassats arefar from suspecting that I had any thing to do with the wholeaffair. Ah! It will soon be our turn, and if you will only accept mysuggestions, madam"--

  It was past nine o'clock when the old dealer, his sister, and Henriettasat down to their modest meal. But in the interval a hopeful smile hadreappeared on Henrietta's face, and she looked almost happy, when, aboutmidnight, Papa Ravinet left them with the words,--

  "To-morrow evening I shall have news. I am going to the navydepartment."

  The next day he reappeared precisely at six o'clock, but in what acondition! He had in his hand a kind of carpet-bag; and his looks andgestures made him look almost insane.

  "Money!" he cried out to his sister as he entered. "I am afraid I havenot enough; and make haste. I have to be at the Lyons Railway at seveno'clock."

  And when his sister and Henrietta, terribly frightened, asked him,--

  "What is the matter? What are you going to do?"

  "Nothing," he replied joyously, "but that Heaven itself declares in ourfavor. I went to the department. 'The Conquest' will remain another yearin Cochin China; but M. Champcey is coming back to Europe. He was tohave taken passage on board a merchant vessel, 'The Saint Louis,' whichis expected in Marseilles every day, if she has not already come in. AndI--I am going to Marseilles, I must see M. Champcey before anybody elsecan see him."

  When his sister had given him notes to the amount of four hundreddollars, he rushed out, exclaiming,--

  "To-morrow I will send you a telegram!"