really fond of, I am not going to do it. You ask for
more than I can do. I am not quite the cowardly hound you take me for."

Clameran paid no attention to these remonstrances: indeed, he was
prepared for them.

"It is not pleasant, I know," he replied; "but necessity knows no law.
Have a little more perseverance and patience; we have almost got to the
end."

The end was nearer than Clameran supposed. Toward the latter part
of November, Mme. Fauvel saw that it was impossible to postpone the
catastrophe any longer, and as a last effort determined to apply to the
marquis for assistance.

She had not seen him since his return from Oloron, except once, when he
came to announce his accession to wealth. At that time, persuaded that
he was the evil genius of Raoul, she had received him very coldly, and
did not invite him to repeat his visit.

She hesitated about speaking to her niece of the step she intended
taking, because she feared violent opposition.

To her great surprise Madeleine warmly approved of it.

Trouble had made her keen-sighted and suspicious. Reflecting on past
events, comparing and weighing every act and speech of Raoul, she was
now convinced that he was Clameran's tool.

She thought that Raoul was too shrewd to be acting in this shameful way,
ruinously to his own interests, if there were not some secret motive
at the bottom of it all. She saw that this persecution was more feigned
than real.

So thoroughly was she convinced of this, that, had it only concerned
herself alone, she would have firmly resisted the oppression, certain
that the threatened exposure would never take place.

Recalling, with a shudder, certain looks of Clameran, she guessed the
truth, that the object of all this underhand work was to force her to
become his wife.

Determined on making the sacrifice, in spite of her repugnance toward
the man, she wished to have the deed done at once; anything was
preferable to this terrible anxiety, to the life of torture which Raoul
made her lead. She felt that her courage might fail if she waited and
suffered much longer.

"The sooner you see M. de Clameran the better for us, aunt," she said,
after talking the project over.

The next day Mme. Fauvel called on the marquis at the Hotel du Louvre,
having sent him a note announcing her intended visit.

He received her with cold, studied politeness, like a man who had been
misunderstood and had been unjustly wounded.

After listening t