are not my words)--if she should see you again at Doctor Sims's
establishment--the emotion--the--the--Well, I don't know exactly what
Doctor Fargeas does hope; but I have repeated to you his words--I am
simply, quite simply, his messenger."

"The doctor," said Andras, calmly, "would like--your niece to see me
again?"

"Yes, yes; and speak to you. You see, you are the only one for whom--"

The Prince interrupted the General, who instantly became as mute as if
he were in the presence of the Czar.

"It is well. But what Doctor Fargeas asks of me will cause me intense
suffering."

Vogotzine did not open his lips.

"See her again? He wishes to revive all my sorrow, then!"

Vogotzine waited, motionless as if on parade.

After a moment or two, Andras saying no more, the General thought that
he might speak.

"I understand. I knew very well what your answer would be. I told the
doctor so; but he replied, 'It is a question of humanity. The Prince
will not refuse.'"

Fargeas must have known Prince Zilah's character well when he used the
word humanity. The Prince would not have refused his pity to the lowest
of human beings; and so, never mind what his sufferings might be, if his
presence could do any good, he must obey the doctor.

"When does Doctor Fargeas wish me to go?"

"Whenever you choose. The doctor is just now at Vaugirard, on a visit to
his colleague, and--"

"Do not let us keep him waiting!"

Vogotzine's eyes brightened.

"Then you consent? You will go?"

He tried to utter some word of thanks, but Andras cut him short, saying:

"I will order the carriage."

"I have a carriage," said Vogotzine, joyously. "We can go at once."

Zilah was silent during the drive; and Vogotzine gazed steadily out of
the window, without saying a word, as the Prince showed no desire to
converse.

They stopped before a high house, evidently built in the last century,
and which was probably formerly a convent. The General descended heavily
from the coupe, rang the bell, and stood aside to let Zilah pass before
him.

The Prince's emotion was betrayed in a certain stiffness of demeanor,
and in his slow walk, as if every movement cost him an effort. He
stroked his moustache mechanically, and glanced about the garden they
were crossing, as if he expected to see Marsa at once.

Dr. Fargeas appeared very much pleased to see the Prince, and he thanked
him warmly for having come. A thin, light-haired man, with a pensive
lo