own heads would pay for it. Once over the frontier, the
ruse will be discovered, the editors obliged to eat their words and be
laughed at, and Gustav receive the Black Eagle for his services. But
see, here's another.'

'Among the victims at play of the well-known Chevalier Duguet--or, as
he is better known here, the Count Czaroviski--is a simple Englishman,
resident at the Hotel de France, and from whom it seems he has won every
louis-d'or he possessed in the world. This miserable dupe, whose name is
O'Learie, or O'Leary----'

At these words the countess leaned back on the sofa and laughed
immoderately.

'Have you, then, suffered so deeply?' said she, wiping her eyes; 'has
Gustav really won all your louis-d'ors?'

'This is too bad, far too bad,' said I; 'and I really cannot comprehend
how any intrigue could induce him so far to asperse his character in
this manner. I, for my part, can be no party to it.'

As I said this, my eyes fell on the latter part of the paragraph, which
ran thus:--

'This poor boy--for we understand he is no more--has been lured to his
ruin by the beauty and attraction of Madame Czaroviski.'

I crushed the odious paper without venturing to see more, and tore it in
a thousand pieces; and, not waiting an instant, hurried to my room and
seized a pen. Burning with indignation and rage, I wrote a short note
to the editor, in which I not only contradicted the assertions of his
correspondent, but offered a reward of a hundred louis for the name of
the person who had invented the infamous calumny.

It was some time before I recovered my composure sufficiently to return
to the countess, whom I now found greatly excited and alarmed at my
sudden departure. She insisted with such eagerness on knowing what I had
done that I was obliged to confess everything, and show her a copy of
the letter I had already despatched to the editor. She grew pale as
death as she read it, flushed deeply, and then became pale again, while
she sank faint and sick into a chair.

'This is very noble conduct of yours,' said she, in a low, hollow voice;
'but I see where it will lead to. Czaroviski has great and powerful
enemies; they will become yours also.'

'Be it so,' said I, interrupting her. 'They have little power to injure
me; let them do their worst.'

'You forget, apparently,' said she, with a most bewitching smile,
'that you are no longer free to dispose of your liberty: that as _my_
protector you cannot brave d