overed.

She saw that all was lost, and wringing her hands she tearfully moaned:

"Pardon, Andre! I beg you, forgive me!"

At these heart-broken tones, the banker shook like a leaf. This voice
brought before him the twenty years of happiness which he had owed
to this woman, who had always been the mistress of his heart, whose
slightest wish had been his law, and who, by a smile or a frown, could
make him the happiest or the most miserable of men. Alas! those days
were over now.

Could this wretched woman crouching at his feet be his beloved
Valentine, the pure, innocent girl whom he had found secluded in the
chateau of La Verberie, who had never loved any other than himself?
Could this be the cherished wife whom he had worshipped for so many
years?

The memory of his lost happiness was too much for the stricken man. He
forgot the present in the past, and was almost melted to forgiveness.

"Unhappy woman," he murmured, "unhappy woman! What have I done that you
should thus betray me? Ah, my only fault was loving you too deeply,
and letting you see it. One wearies of everything in this world, even
happiness. Did pure domestic joys pall upon you, and weary you, driving
you to seek the excitement of a sinful passion? Were you so tired of the
atmosphere of respect and affection which surrounded you, that you must
needs risk your honor and mine by braving public opinion? Oh, into
what an abyss you have fallen, Valentine! and, oh, my God! if you were
wearied by my constant devotion, had the thought of your children no
power to restrain your evil passions; could you not remain untarnished
for their sake?"

M. Fauvel spoke slowly, with painful effort, as if each word choked him.

Raoul, who listened with attention, saw that if the banker knew some
things, he certainly did not know all.

He saw that erroneous information had misled the unhappy man, and that
he was still a victim of false appearances.

He determined to convince him of the mistake under which he was
laboring, and said:

"Monsieur, I hope you will listen."

But the sound of Raoul's voice was sufficient to break the charm.

"Silence!" cried the banker with an angry oath, "silence!"

For some moments nothing was heard but the sobs of Mme. Fauvel.

"I came here," continued the banker, "with the intention of killing you
both. But I cannot kill a woman, and I will not kill an unarmed man."

Raoul once more tried to speak.

"Let me finish!" interrupted