me--I felt sure it was Mirza--and so I ran after it. But
I could find nothing. I called 'Mirza! Mirza!' and still nothing. I
searched under all the trees, and yet I could not find her. It was as
dark as pitch, and suddenly a terrible fear seized hold of me--such a
terrible fright that I really believe I called for help, and I ran back
to the house half crazed."

Any one hearing her would have sworn that she was telling the truth.
But, unfortunately, her earlier manner had proved her guilt.

Mademoiselle Marguerite was not deceived when she said to herself: "I
am on the track of some abominable act." However, she had sufficient
self-control to conceal her suspicions; and she pretended to be
perfectly satisfied with the explanation which the house-keeper had
concocted. "Ah, my dear Leon, you are altogether too timid; it's
absurd," she said, kindly.

The housekeeper hung her head. "I know that I make myself ridiculous,"
she said, humbly. "But how can I help it? When a person's frightened,
she can't reason. And that white object which I saw, as plainly as I
see you, what could it have been?" And, convinced that her fable was
believed, she grew bolder, and ventured to add: "Oh, my dear young lady,
I shall tremble all night if the garden isn't searched. Pray send the
servants out to look. There are so many thieves and rascals in Paris!"

Under any other circumstances Mademoiselle Marguerite would have refused
to listen to this ridiculous request; but, determined to repay the
hypocrite in her own coin, she replied. "Very well; it shall be done."
And calling M. Casimir and Bourigeau, the concierge, she ordered them to
take a lantern and explore the garden carefully.

They obeyed, though with rather bad grace, not being particularly
courageous, either of them, and, of course, they found nothing.

"No matter," said Madame Leon, "I feel safe now." And she did indeed
feel more tranquil in mind. "I had a lucky escape!" she said to herself.
"What would have become of me, if Mademoiselle Marguerite had discovered
the truth?"

But the housekeeper congratulated herself on her victory too soon.
Mademoiselle Marguerite not only suspected her of treason, but she was
endeavoring to procure proofs of it. She felt certain that the plausible
housekeeper had deceived her, and cruelly wronged her as well. But what
she could not understand was, how Madame Leon had been able to do so.
She had spent a long time in fruitless conjectures, whe