as inquired.

"Not very well."

"That is bad. We must keep an account of our business operations; it
will not do to take any one else into our confidence, and I cannot do
the work myself. My eyesight is not very good."

"I will do my best," replied Coursegol, mentally cursing his ignorance.

Suddenly another plan flashed through his brain.

"Ah! now I have it," he exclaimed, eagerly. "This work that you cannot
do and that I should do so badly can be entrusted to my daughter."

"Your daughter! You have a daughter! You have never told me that you
were a married man."

Coursegol was silent for a moment; he seemed to hesitate.

"I will return confidence for confidence," he said finally.

Then he related the history of Dolores, and his own. When it was ended,
Vauquelas rubbed his hands joyfully.

"She will not betray us," said he. "Ah well! Everything is for the
best."

He covered the box in which his gold was concealed with earth, and then
the two men returned to the drawing-room. They remained in earnest
conversation for some time, Vauquelas disclosing his plans for the
future, the other listening and proffering occasional but judicious
suggestions. It was after midnight when they separated.

Coursegol walked home. Twice he was stopped by the patrols, but, thanks
to the credentials he carried with him, he was allowed to pursue his
way unmolested. A week later, Dolores and Coursegol left Bridoul's house
to take up their abode in that of Vauquelas. The parting was a sad one.
Cornelia Bridoul loved Dolores as fondly as the latter loved her; still
they would have frequent opportunities to see each other, and this
thought greatly alleviated their sorrow.

CHAPTER VIII.

AN EPISODE OF THE EMIGRATION.

On the first Sunday in the month of September, 1793, about ten o'clock
in the morning, a young girl clad in mourning emerged from the doorway
of a pretty cottage in the suburbs of London. She slowly descended the
broad and handsome steps that led up to the dwelling, passed through the
garden, and having opened the gate, gazed anxiously in the direction of
the city.

She was a brunette, rather fragile in appearance, and petite in stature;
and though she was not really beautiful, hers was a sympathetic and
altogether charming face. The air of elegance that characterized her
person and her attire, the whiteness of her hands, and her delicate and
refined features, all indicated that she was a person of gentl