.

"Did she tell you so?" he murmured, at last, feebly.

"She did not, but I guessed it. Her heart is won, and I think I know by
whom."

Claudet had uttered these last words slowly and with a painful effort,
at the same time studying Julien's countenance with renewed inquiry. The
latter became more and more troubled, and his physiognomy expressed both
anxiety and embarrassment.

"Whom do you suspect?" he stammered.

"Oh!" replied Claudet, employing a simple artifice to sound the obscure
depth of his cousin's heart, "it is useless to name the person; you do
not know him."

"A stranger?"

Julien's countenance had again changed. His hands were twitching
nervously, his lips compressed, and his dilated pupils were blazing with
anger, instead of triumph, as before.

"Yes; a stranger, a clerk in the iron-works at Grancey, I think."

"You think!--you think!" cried Julien, fiercely, "why don't you have
more definite information before you accuse Mademoiselle Vincart of such
treachery?"

He resumed pacing the hall, while his interlocutor, motionless, remained
silent, and kept his eyes steadily upon him.

"It is not possible," resumed Julien, "Reine can not have played us
such a trick! When I spoke to her for you, it was so easy to say she was
already betrothed!"

"Perhaps," objected Claudet, shaking his head, "she had reasons for not
letting you know all that was in her mind."

"What reasons?"

"She doubtless believed at that time that the man she preferred did not
care for her. There are some people who, when they are vexed, act in
direct contradiction to their own wishes. I have the idea that Reine
accepted me only for want of some one better, and afterward, being too
openhearted to dissimulate for any length of time, she thought better of
it, and sent me about my business."

"And you," interrupted Julien, sarcastically, "you, who had been
accepted as her betrothed, did not know better how to defend your rights
than to suffer yourself to be ejected by a rival, whose intentions,
even, you have not clearly ascertained!"

"By Jove! how could I help it? A fellow that takes an unwilling bride
is playing for too high stakes. The moment I found there was another she
preferred, I had but one course before me--to take myself off."

"And you call that loving!" shouted de Buxieres, "you call that losing
your heart! God in heaven! if I had been in your place, how differently
I should have acted! Instead of leaving, w