he reason, Clotilde; but you have told us nothing; pray,
go on," interposed De Breulh.

The extreme calmness of her cousin, and a glance which she observed
passing between him and Andre, enlightened the Viscountess somewhat.

"I asked as much as I dared," she replied, "but I could only get the
vaguest answers. Sabine looked as if she were dead, and her father and
mother hovered around her couch like two spectres. Had they slain her
with their own hands, they could not have looked more guilty; their
faces frightened me."

"Tell me precisely what answers were given to your questions," broke in
he impatiently.

"Sabine had seemed so agitated all day, that her mother asked her if she
was suffering any pain."

"We know that already."

"Indeed!" replied the Viscountess, with a look of surprise. "It seems,
cousin, that you saw Sabine that afternoon, but what became of her
afterward no one appears to know; but there is positive proof that she
did not leave the house, and received no letters. At all events, it was
more than an hour after her maid saw her enter her own room. Sabine said
a few unintelligible words to the girl, who, seeing the pallor upon her
mistress's face, ran up to her. Just as she did so, Sabine uttered a
wild shriek, and fell to the ground. She was raised up and laid upon the
bed, but since then she has neither moved nor spoken."

"That is not all," said De Breulh, who had watched his cousin keenly.

The Viscountess started, and avoided meeting her cousin's eye.

"I do not understand," she faltered. "Why do you look at me like that?"

De Breulh, who had been pacing up and down the room, suddenly halted in
front of the Viscountess.

"My dear Clotilde," said he, "I am sure when I tell you that the tongue
of scandal has often been busy with your name, I am telling you nothing
new."

"Pooh!" answered the Viscountess. "What do I care for that?"

"But I always defended you. You are indiscreet--your presence here
tonight shows this; but you are, after all, a true woman,--brave and
true as steel."

"What do you mean by this exordium, Gontran?"

"This, Clotilde,--I want to know if I dare venture to intrust to you a
secret which involves the honor of two persons, and, perhaps, the lives
of more."

"Thank you, Gontran," answered she calmly. "You have formed a correct
judgment of me."

But here Andre felt that he must interpose, and, taking a step forward,
said, "Have you the right to speak?"

"My