s were still out, and
Mademoiselle Marguerite found everything in the same condition as she
had left it. She carefully placed the letter in the drawer again, locked
it, and put the key in the pocket of Madame Leon's dress. Then she
breathed freely once more; and, for the first time in six days, she felt
something very like joy in her heart. Now she had no fear of the Marquis
de Valorsay. She had him in her power. He would destroy his letter the
next day, and think that he was annihilating all proofs of his infamy.
Not so. At the decisive moment, at the very moment of his triumph,
she would produce the photograph of this letter, and crush him. And
she--only a young girl--had outwitted this consummate scoundrel! "I
have not been unworthy of Pascal," she said to herself, with a flash of
pride.

However, her nature was not one of those weak ones which are become
intoxicated by the first symptom of success, and then relax in their
efforts. When her excitement had abated a little, she was inclined to
disparage rather than to exaggerate the advantage she had gained. What
she desired was a complete, startling, incontestable victory. It was
not enough to prove Valorsay's GUILT--she was resolved to penetrate his
designs, to discover why he pursued her so desperately. And, though she
felt that she possessed a formidable weapon of defence, she could
not drive away her gloomy forebodings when she thought of the threats
contained in the marquis's letter. "Thanks to the assistance of one
of my friends," he wrote, "I can place this proud girl in a perilous,
terribly perilous, position, from which she cannot possibly extricate
herself unaided."

These words persistently lingered in Mademoiselle Marguerite's mind.
What was the danger hanging over her? whence would it come? and in what
form? What abominable machination might she not expect from the villain
who had deliberately dishonored Pascal? How would he attack her? Would
he strive to ruin her reputation, or did he intend to forcibly abduct
her? Would he attempt to decoy her into a trap where she would be
subjected to the insults of the vilest wretches? A thousand frightful
memories of the time when she was an apprentice drove her nearly
frantic. "I will never go out unarmed," she thought, "and woe to the man
who raises his hand against me!"

The vagueness of the threat increased her fears. No one is courageous
enough to confront an unknown, mysterious, and always imminent danger