y francs. I could never have opened my lips but for the
twenty francs, sir. In the first place, I knew nothing about it until he
told me, so that I could repeat it."

"The wretch! But who could have told him?"

A groan from the sick-bed recalled the physician to his duty. All the
long night he watched there, and when all was over he returned in haste
to Etiolles and went directly in search of Cecile. Her room was empty,
and the bed had not been slept in. His heart stood still. He ran to
the office, still he found no one. But the door of Madeleine's old room
stood open, and there among the relics of the dear dead, prostrate on
the _Prie-Dieu_, was Cecile asleep, in an attitude that told of a night
of prayer and tears. She opened her eyes as her grandfather touched her.

"And the wretches told you the secret that we have taken so much pains
to hide from you! And strangers and enemies told you, my poor little
darling, the sad tale we concealed."

She hid her face on his shoulder. "I am so ashamed," she whispered.

"And this is the reason that you did not wish to marry? Tell me why?"

"Because I did not wish to acknowledge my mother's dishonor, and my
conscience compelled me to have no secrets from my husband. There was
but one thing to do, and I did it."

"But you love him?"

"With my whole heart; and I believe he loves me so well that he would
marry me in spite of my shameful history; but I would never consent to
such a sacrifice. A man does not marry a girl who has no father--who has
no name, or, if she had one, it would be that of a robber and forger."

"But you are mistaken, my child; Jack was proud and happy to marry you
with a thorough knowledge of your history. I told it all to him, and if
you had had more confidence in me, you would have avoided this trial to
us all."

"And he was willing to marry me!"

"Child! he loves you. Besides, your destinies are similar. He has no
father, and his mother has never been married. The only difference
between you is that your mother was a saint, and his is a sinner."

Then the doctor, who had told Jack Cecile's history, now related to her
the long martyrdom of the youth she loved. He told her of his exile from
his mother's arms--of all that he had endured. "I understand it all now,"
he cried; "it is she who has told Hirsch of your mother's marriage."

While the doctor was talking, Cecile was overwhelmed with despair to
think that she had caused Jack, already so unha