he saw the figure of
the girl alone in the shade of the great rose-bushes, past and present
became one, and the whole man was lost in that one word "Rosalie!" which
called her to her feet with outstretched hands.

The tears sprang to her eyes; her face upturned to his was a mute
appeal, a speechless 'Viens ici'.

Past, present, future, duty, apprehension, consequences, suddenly fell
away from Charley's mind like a garment slipping from the shoulders, and
the new man, swept off his feet by the onrush of unused and ungoverned
emotions, caught the girl to his arms with a desperate joy.

"Oh, do you care, then--for me?" wept the girl, and hid her face in his
breast.

A voice came from inside the house: "Monsieur, Monsieur--ah, come, if
you please, tailor!"

The girl drew back quickly, looked up at him for one instant with a
triumphant happy daring, then, suddenly covered with confusion, turned,
ran to the gate, opened it, passed swiftly out, and was swallowed up in
the dusk.

CHAPTER XXXVII. THE CHALLENGE OF PAULETTE DUBOIS

"Monsieur, Monsieur!" came the voice from inside the house, querulously
and anxiously. Charley entered the Notary's bedroom.

"Monsieur," said the Notary excitedly, "she is here--Paulette is here.
My wife is asleep, thank God! but old Sophie has just told me that the
woman asks to see me. Ah, Heaven above, what shall I do?"

"Will you leave it to me?"

"Yes, yes, Monsieur."

"You will do exactly as I say?"

"Ah, most sure."

"Very well. Keep still. I will see her first. Trust to me." He turned
and left the room.

Charley found the woman in the Notary's office, which, while partly
detached from the house, did duty as sitting-room and library.
When Charley entered, the room was only lighted by two candles,
and Paulette's face was hidden by a veil, but Charley observed the
tremulousness of the figure and the nervous decision of manner. He had
seen her before several times, and he had always noticed the air, half
bravado, half shrinking, marking her walk and movements, as though two
emotions were fighting in her. She was now dressed in black, save for
one bright red ribbon round her throat, incongruous and garish.

When she saw Charley she started, for she had expected the servant with
a message from the Notary--her own message had been peremptory.

"I wish to see the Notary," she said defiantly.

"He is not able to come to you."

"What of that?"

"Did you expect to go to his