upon life's realities,--a woman who would not have trodden in flowery
ways though every pressure of her foot crushed out some delicious aroma
to perfume her life, if the "stern lawgiver, duty," summoned her to a
flinty road, and pointed to a glorious goal beyond,--such a woman,
having deliberately chosen her path, having tested her strength to walk
therein, having pronounced that strength all-sufficient, deserved the
tribute of confidence, and an even blind respect to her mandates.
Besides, compliance with her wishes was a species of voiceless, wordless
communication with her; it was sending her a message through some
unknown and mysterious channel.

Maurice presented this in its most vivid colors before Bertha's eyes;
but in vain. She was too wayward, too unreasonable, too full of
passionate yearning for the presence of Madeleine, too sensible of an
innate weakness that longed to lean upon Madeleine's strength, to see
the justice and wisdom of the conclusion to which Maurice had arrived.

As soon as their painful interview was closed by the entrance of the
marquis, Maurice sought the old Jew and ordered him to prosecute his
search no further. Henriques, who had already extracted a considerable
sum from the young nobleman, and looked upon the transaction as a safe
investment calculated to yield a certain profit for some months to come,
was very unwilling to relinquish his promised gain. He assured the
viscount that he had lately received information of the greatest
importance; the party to whom the jewels had originally belonged had at
last been tracked; the undertaking was on the very eve of success. To
abandon it was a refusal to grasp the prize almost within their clutch.
Whether the cunning Jew spoke the truth, or fiction, mattered little;
for Maurice, in spite of these alluring representations, did not allow
himself to be tempted to violate Madeleine's express command. He had, as
it were, accepted his fate, and cast away the arms with which men war
with so-called "destiny;" struggle and rebellion were over. To "_wait_"
in patience was all that remained.

But what was to be done with his existence? In the plenitude of youthful
health and strength, was his life to ebb away, like an unreplenished
stream, flowing into nothingness? His days became more and more
wearisome; the hours hung more and more heavily upon his hands; the feet
of time sounded with iron tramp in his ears, yet never appeared to move
onward.

"