"No, but you think so; and that is worse. Well, come; I think I can convince you of your mistake. What do you think Miss Brandon would gain by marrying me? A fortune, you say. I have only one word in reply; but that is sufficient; Miss Brandon is richer than I am."

How, and at what price, Miss Brandon had managed to possess herself of such a fortune, Daniel knew but too well from Maxime's account; hence he could not suppress a nervous shudder, which the count noticed, and which irritated him.

"Yes, richer than I am," he repeated. "The oil-wells which she has inherited from her father bring her in, bad years and good years, from thirty to forty thousand dollars a year, and that in spite of their being sadly mismanaged. If they were well managed, they would produce, three, four, or five times as much, or even more. Sir Thorn has proved to me that they are an almost inexhaustible mine of wealth. If petroleum was not fabulously profitable, how would you account for the oil-fever with which these cool, calculating Americans have suddenly been seized, and which has made more millionaires than the gold-fever in California and the Territories? Ah! there is something to be made there yet, and something grand, if one could dispose of a large capital."

He became excited, and forgot himself; but he soon checked himself. He had evidently been on the point of letting a secret leak out. After a few moments, he continued more calmly,- "But enough of that. I trust your suspicions are removed. Next you may tell me that Miss Brandon takes me because she can do no better. Mistaken again, my friend. At this very moment she is called upon to choose between me and a much younger man than I am, whose fortune, moreover, is larger than mine,-Mr. Wilkie Gordon."

How did it come about that Count Ville-Handry seemed to appeal to Daniel, and to plead his cause before him? Daniel did not even think of asking himself that question; his mind was in a state of utter confusion. Still, as the count insisted on having his opinion, as he urged him, and repeatedly asked, "Well, do you see any other objection?" he forgot at last his friend's prudent warning, and said in a troubled voice,- "No doubt, count, you know Miss Brandon's family?"

"Certainly! Do you think I would buy a cat in a bag? Her excellent father was a model of honesty."

"And-her previous life?"

The count started from his chair, and, casting a savage glance at Daniel, said,- "Oh, oh! I see one of those rascally slanderers, who have tried to tarnish the honor of the n.o.blest and chastest of all women, has already been at work here, antic.i.p.ating my communication to you, and repeating those infamous calumnies. You must give me the name of the scoundrel."

Unconsciously, almost, Daniel turned towards the door, behind which M. de Brevan was listening. Perhaps he expected him to come forth; but Maxime did not stir.

"Sarah's previous life!" continued the count. "I know every hour of it; and I can answer for it as for my own. The darling! Before consenting to be mine, she insisted upon my knowing every thing, yes, every thing, without reserve or boastfulness; and I know what she has suffered. Did they not actually say she had been the accomplice of a wretched thief, a cashier of some bank, who had become a defaulter? Did they not say that she had driven a foolish young man, a gambler, to commit suicide; and that she had watched, unmoved, the tortures of his agony? Ah! you have only to look at Miss Brandon to know that these vile stories are wretched inventions of malicious enemies and rivals. And look here, Daniel; you may believe me; whenever you see people calumniate a man or a woman, you may rest a.s.sured that that man or woman has, somehow or other, wounded or humiliated some vulgar person, some mean, envious fool, who cannot endure his or her superiority in point of fortune, rank, or beauty and talent."

He had actually recovered his youthful energy in thus defending his beloved. His eye brightened up; his voice became strong, and his gestures animated.

"But no more of that painful topic," he said: "let us talk seriously."

He rose, and leaning on the mantelpiece, so as to face Daniel, he said,- "I told you, my dear Daniel, that Sir Thorn and Mrs. Brian insisted upon certain conditions before they consented to our marriage. One is, that Miss Brandon is to be received by my relations as she deserves to be, not only respectfully, but affectionately, even tenderly. As to relations, there is not any. I have some remote cousins, who, having nothing to expect from me when I die, do not trouble themselves any more about me than I trouble myself about them. But I have a daughter; and there is the danger. I know she is distressed at the idea of my marrying again. She cannot bear the mere idea that another woman is to take the place of her mother, to bear her name, and to rule in my house."

Daniel began at last to know what he had to understand by that unsuccessful appointment which had procured him the pleasure of a visit from Count Ville-Handry.

"Now," continued the latter, "I know my daughter. She is her mother over again, weak, but obstinate beyond endurance. If she has taken it into her head to receive Miss Brandon uncivilly, she will do so, in spite of all she has promised me, and she will make a terrible scene of it. And if Miss Brandon consents, in spite of all, to go on, my house will become a h.e.l.l to me, and my wife will suffer terribly. Now the question is, whether I have sufficient influence over Henrietta to bring her to reason. I think not. But this influence which I have not-a very nice young man may have it; and that man is you."

Daniel had turned red. It was for the first time that the count spoke so clearly. He went on,- "I have never disapproved of my poor wife's plans; and the proof is, that I have allowed you to pay your attentions to my daughter. But now I make this condition: if my daughter is to Miss Brandon what she ought to be to her, a tender and devoted sister, then, six months after my wedding, there shall be another wedding at my house."

Daniel was about to speak; but he stopped him, saying,- "No, not a word! I have shown you the wisdom of my decision, and you may act accordingly."

He had already put on his hat and opened the door, when he added,- "Ah! one word more. Miss Brandon has asked me to present you to her to-night. She wants to speak to you. Come and dine with me; and after dinner we will go to Circus Street. Now, pray think of what I have told you, and good-by!"

VII.

Count Ville-Handry had hardly closed the door, when M. de Brevan rushed out of the bedroom in which he had been concealed.

"Was I right?" he exclaimed.

But Daniel did not hear him. He had forgotten his very presence. Overcome by the great effort he had made to conceal his emotions, he had sunk into a chair, hiding his face in his hands, and said to himself in a mournful voice, and as if trying to convince himself of an overwhelming fact,- "The count has lost his mind altogether, and we are lost."

The grief of this excellent young man was so great and so bitter, that M. de Brevan seemed to be deeply moved. He looked at him for some time with an air of pity, and then suddenly, as if yielding to a good impulse, he touched his shoulder, and said,- "Daniel!"

The unhappy man started like one who has suddenly been roused from deep slumber; and, as he recalled what had just happened, he said,- "You have heard all, Maxime?"

"All! I have not lost a word nor a gesture. But do not blame me for my indiscretion. It enables me to give you some friendly advice. You know I have paid dear for my experience."

He hesitated, being at a loss how to express his ideas; then he continued in a short, sharp tone,- "You love Miss Ville-Handry?"

"More than my life, don't you know?"

"Well, if that is so, abandon all thoughts of useless resistance; induce Miss Henrietta to do as her father wishes; and persuade Miss Brandon to let your wedding take place a month after her own. But ask for special pledges. Miss Ville-Handry may suffer somewhat during that month; but the day after your wedding you will carry her off to your own home, and leave the poor old man to his amorous folly."

Daniel showed in his face that this suggestion opened a new prospect before him.

"I had not thought of that," he said.

"It is all you can do."

"Yes, it is what prudence would advise me to do. But can I do so in honor?"

"Oh, honor, honor!"

"Would it not be wrong in me to abandon the poor old man to the mercy of Miss Brandon and her accomplices?"

"You will never be able to rescue him, my dear fellow."

"I ought at least to try. You thought so yesterday, and even this morning, not two hours ago."

Maxime could scarcely hide his impatience.

"I did not know then what I know now," he said.

Daniel had risen, and was walking up and down the small room, replying to his own objections, rather than to those raised by Brevan.

"If I were alone master," he said, "I might, perhaps, agree to a capitulation. But could Henrietta accept it? Never, never! Her father knows her well. She is as weak as a child; but at the proper moment she can develop a masculine energy and an iron will."

"Why should you tell her at all who Miss Brandon is?"

"I have pledged my word of honor to tell her every thing."

Brevan again shrugged his shoulders, and there was no mistaking what he meant by that gesture. He might just as well have said aloud, "Can one conceive such stupidity?"

"Then you had better give up your Henrietta, my poor fellow," he said.

But Daniel's despair had been overcome. He ground his teeth with anger, and said,- "Not yet, my friend, not yet! An honest man who defends his honor and his life is pretty strong. I have no experience, that is true; but I have you, Maxime; and I know I can always count upon you."

Daniel did not seem to have noticed that M. de Brevan, at first all fire and energy, had rapidly cooled off, like a man, who, having ventured too far, thinks he has made a mistake, and tries to retrace his steps.

"Certainly you may count upon me," he replied; "but what can be done?"

"Well, what you said yourself. I shall call upon Miss Brandon, and watch her. I shall dissemble, and gain time. If necessary, I shall employ detectives, and find out her antecedents. I shall try to interest some high personage in my behalf,-my minister, for instance, who is very kind to me. Besides, I have an idea."

"Ah!"

"That unlucky cashier, whose story you told me, and who, you think, is not dead-if we could find him. How did you call him? Oh, Malgat! An advertis.e.m.e.nt inserted in all the leading newspapers of Europe would, no doubt, reach him; and the hope of seeing himself avenged"- M. de Brevan's cheeks began to redden perceptibly. He broke out with strange vehemence,- "What nonsense!"

Then he added, more collectedly,- "You forget that Malgat has been sentenced to I know not how many years' penal servitude, and that he will see in your advertis.e.m.e.nt a trick of the police; so that he will only conceal himself more carefully than ever."

But Daniel was not so easily shaken. He said,- "I will think it over. I will see. Perhaps something might be done with that young man whom the count mentioned, that M. Wilkie Gordon. If I thought he was really anxious for Miss Brandon's hand"- "I have heard it said, and I am sure it is so, the young man is one of those idiots whom vanity renders insane, and who do not know what to do in order to make themselves notorious. Miss Brandon being very famous, he would marry her, just as he would pay a hundred thousand dollars for a famous racer."

"And how do you account for Miss Brandon's refusal?"

"By the character of the man, whom I know very well, and whom she knows as well. She is quite aware that, three months after the wedding, he would decamp, and in less than a year she would be divorced. Then there is another thing: Wilkie is only twenty-five years old; and you know a fellow at that age is likely to live a good deal longer than a lover who is beyond the sixties."

The way in which he said this lent to his words a terrible significance; and Daniel, turning pale, stammered out,- "Great G.o.d! Do you think Miss Brandon could"- "Could do anything, most a.s.suredly,-except, perhaps, get into trouble with the police. I have heard her say that only fools employ poison or the dagger."

A strange smile pa.s.sed over his lips; and he added in a tone of horrible irony,- "It is true there are other means, less prompt, perhaps, but much safer, by which people may be removed when they become inconvenient.

"What means? The same, no doubt, which she had employed to get rid of poor Kergrist, and that unlucky Malgat, the cashier of the Mutual Discount Society. Purely moral means, based upon her thorough knowledge of the character of her victims, and her own infernal power over them."

But Daniel tried in vain to obtain more light from his friend. Brevan answered evasively; perhaps because he did not dare to speak out freely, and reveal his real thoughts; or because it lay in his plans to be content with having added this horrible fear to all the other apprehensions of his friend.

His embarra.s.sment, just now unmistakable, had entirely disappeared, as if he had come to a final decision after long hesitation. He who had first advised all kinds of concessions now suggested the most energetic resistance, and seemed to be confident of success.

When he at last left Daniel, he had made him promise to keep him hour by hour informed of all that might happen, and, above all, to try every means in his power to unmask Miss Brandon.

"How he hates her!" said Daniel to himself when he was alone,-"how he hates her!"

But this very hatred, which had already troubled him the night before, now disturbed him more and more, and kept him from coming to any decision. The more he reflected, the more it seemed to him that Maxime had allowed himself to be carried away beyond what was probable, or even possible. The last accusation, especially, seemed to him perfectly monstrous.

A young and beautiful woman, consumed by ambition and covetousness, might possibly play a comedy of pure love while she was disgusted in her heart. She might catch by vile tricks a foolish old man, and make him marry her, openly and avowedly selling her beauty and her youth. Such things happen, and are excused by the morality of our day. The same wicked, heartless woman might speculate upon becoming speedily a widow, and thus regaining her liberty, together with a large fortune. This also happens, however horrible it may appear. But that she should marry a poor old fool, with the preconceived purpose of hastening his end by a deliberate crime, there was a depth in that wickedness which terrified Daniel's imagination.

Deeply ensconced in his chair, he was losing himself in conjectures, forgetting how time pa.s.sed, and how his work was waiting for him, even the invitation to dinner which the count had given to him, and the prospect of being introduced that very evening to Miss Brandon. Night came; and then only his concierge, who came in to see what had become of him all day long, aroused him from his torpor.

"Ah, I am losing my senses!" he exclaimed, rising suddenly. "And Henrietta, who has been waiting for me-what must she think of me?"

Miss Ville-Handry, at that very moment, had reached that degree of anxiety which becomes well-nigh intolerable. After having waited for Daniel all the evening of the day before, and after having spent a sleepless night, she had surely expected him to-day, counting the seconds by the beating of her heart, and starting at the noise of every carriage in the street. In her despair, knowing hardly what she was doing, she was thinking of running herself to University Street, to Daniel's house, when the door opened.

In the same indifferent tone in which he announced friends and enemies, the servant said,- "M. Daniel Champcey."

Henrietta was up in a moment. She was about to exclaim,- "What has kept you? What has happened?" But the words died away on her lips.

It had been sufficient for her to look at Daniel's sad face to feel that a great misfortune had befallen her.

"Ah! you had been right in your fears," she said, sinking into a chair.

"Alas!"

"Speak: let me know all."

"Your father has come to me, and offered me your hand, Henrietta, provided I can obtain your consent to his marriage with Miss Brandon. Now, listen to me; and then you can decide."

Faithful to his promise, he thereupon told her every thing he had learned from Maxime and the count, suppressing only those details which would have made the poor girl blush, and also that terrible charge which he was unwilling to believe.

When he had ended, Henrietta said warmly,- "What! I should allow my father to marry such a creature? I should sit still and smile when such dishonor and such ruin are coming to a house over which my mother has presided! No; far be it from me ever to be so selfish! I shall oppose Miss Brandon's plans with all my strength and all my energy."

"She may triumph, after all."

"She shall not triumph over my resistance and my contempt. Never-do you hear me, Daniel?-never will I bow down before her. Never shall my hand touch hers. And, if my father persists, I shall ask him, the day before his wedding, to allow me to bury myself in a convent."

"He will not let you go."

"Then I shall shut myself up in my room, and never leave it again. I do not think they will drag me out by force."

There was no mistaking it; she spoke with an earnestness and a determination which nothing could shake or break. And yet the very saddest presentiments oppressed Daniel's heart. He said,- "But Miss Brandon will certainly not come alone to this house."

"Whom will she bring with her?"

"Her relatives, M. Thomas Elgin and Mrs. Brian. Oh Henrietta, dearest Henrietta! to think that you should be exposed to the spite and the persecution of these wretches!"

She raised her head proudly, and replied,- "I am not afraid of them." Then she added in a gentler tone,- "Besides, won't you always be near me, to advise me, and to protect me in case of danger?"

"I? Don't you think they will try to part us soon enough?"

"No, Daniel, I know very well that the house will no longer be open to you."

"Well?"

The poor girl blushed up to the roots of her hair, and, turning her. eyes away from him to avoid his looks, she said,- "Since they force us to do so, I must needs do a thing a girl, properly speaking, ought not to do. We will meet secretly. I shall have to stoop to win over one of my waiting-women, who may be discreet and obliging enough to aid me, and, through her, I will write to you, and receive your letters."

But this arrangement did not relieve Daniel from his terrible apprehensions. There was a question which constantly rose to his lips, and which still he did not dare to utter. At last, making a great effort, he asked,- "And then?"

Henrietta understood perfectly what he meant. She answered,- "I thought you would be able to wait until the day should come when the law would authorize me to make my own choice."

"Henrietta!"

She offered him her hand, and said solemnly,- "And on that day, Daniel, I promise you, if my father still withholds his consent, I will ask you openly for your arm; and then, in broad daylight, before all the world, I shall leave this house never to re-enter it again."

As quick as thought, Daniel had seized her hand, and, carrying it to his lips, he said,-"Thanks! A thousand thanks! You restore me to hope."

Still, before abandoning the effort, he thought he would try one more measure; and for that purpose it was necessary that Henrietta should be induced to conceal her intentions as long as possible. It was only with great difficulty that he succeeded in obtaining her consent.

"I will do what you desire; but believe me, all your efforts will be in vain."

She was interrupted by the arrival of Count Ville-Handry. He kissed his daughter, said a few words about rain and fine weather; and then, drawing Daniel into one of the windows, he asked- "Have you spoken to her?"