m!"

"Another time you shall tell me all."

"Another time!" he exclaimed, eagerly--"shall I see you again?"

Eugenie blushed beneath the gaze and the voice of joy. "Yes," she said;
"yes. But I must reflect. Be calm be silent. Ah!--a happy thought!"

She sat down, wrote a hasty line, sealed, and gave it to Morton.

"Take this note, as addressed, to Madame Dufour; it will provide you
with a safe lodging. She is a person I can depend on--an old servant who
lived with my mother, and to whom I have given a small pension. She
has a lodging--it is lately vacant--I promised to procure her a
tenant--go--say nothing of what has passed. I will see her, and arrange
all. Wait!--hark!--all is still. I will go first, and see that no one
watches you. Stop," (and she threw open the window, and looked into the
court.) "The porter's door is open--that is fortunate! Hurry on, and God
be with you!"

In a few minutes Morton was in the streets. It was still early--the
thoroughfares deserted-none of the shops yet open. The address on the
note was to a street at some distance, on the other side of the Seine.
He passed along the same Quai which he had trodden but a few hours
since--he passed the same splendid bridge on which he had stood
despairing, to quit it revived--he gained the Rue Faubourg St. Honore. A
young man in a cabriolet, on whose fair cheek burned the hectic of
late vigils and lavish dissipation, was rolling leisurely home from
the gaming-house, at which he had been more than usually fortunate--his
pockets were laden with notes and gold. He bent forwards as Morton
passed him. Philip, absorbed in his reverie, perceived him not, and
continued his way. The gentleman turned down one of the streets to the
left, stopped, and called to the servant dozing behind his cabriolet.

"Follow that passenger! quietly--see where he lodges; be sure to find
out and let me know. I shall go home with out you." With that he drove
on.

Philip, unconscious of the espionage, arrived at a small house in a
quiet but respectable street, and rang the bell several times before at
last he was admitted by Madame Dufour herself, in her nightcap. The old
woman looked askant and alarmed at the unexpected apparition. But the
note seemed at once to satisfy her. She conducted him to an apartment
on the first floor, small, but neatly and even elegantly furnished,
consisting of a sitting-room and a bedchamber, and said, quietly,--

"Will they suit monsieur?"