said much more
than her words.

'The matter is this, sir,' said the aunt: 'we have a very valued
relative----'

'Friend,' interposed Laura, 'friend, aunt.'

'We will say friend, then,' resumed she; 'a friend in whose welfare we
are deeply interested, and whose regard for us is not less powerful, has
been for some years back separated from us by the force of those unhappy
circumstances which have made so many of us exiles! No means have
existed of communicating with each other, nor of interchanging those
hopes or fears for our country's welfare which are so near to every
French heart! He is in Germany, we are in the wild Tyrol, one-half the
world apart, and dare not trust to a correspondence the utterance of
those sympathies which have brought so many to the scaffold!'

'We would ask of you to see him, Monsieur de Tiernay, to know him,'
burst out Laura; 'to tell him all that you can of France--above all, of
the sentiments of the army; he is a soldier himself, and will hear you
with pleasure.'

'You may speak freely and frankly,' continued the marquise; 'the count
is man of the world enough to hear the truth even when it gives pain.
Your own career will interest him deeply; heroism has always had a charm
for all his house. This letter will introduce you; and as the general
informs us you have some days at your own disposal, pray give them to
our service in this cause.'

'Willingly, madame,' replied I, 'only let me understand a little
better----'

'There is no need to know more,' interrupted Laura; 'the Count de
Marsanne will himself suggest everything of which you will talk. He will
speak of us, perhaps--of the Tyrol--of Kuffstein; then he will lead the
conversation to France--in fact, once acquainted, you will follow the
dictates of your own fancy.'

'Just so, Monsieur de Tiernay; it will be a visit with as little of
ceremony as possible----'

'Aunt!' interrupted Laura, as if recalling the marquise to caution; and
the old lady at once acknowledged the hint by a significant look.

I see it all, thought I De Marsanne is Laura's accepted lover, and I am
the person to be employed as go-between. This was intolerable, and when
the thought first struck me, I was beside myself with passion.

'Are we asking too great a favour, Monsieur de Tiernay?' said the
marquise, whose eyes were fixed upon me during this conflict.

'Of course not, madame,' said I, in an accent of almost sarcastic tone.
'If I am not wrong in my