s of poverty and crime. What might he not dare, in order to
preserve even the semblance of grandeur for a year, or a month, or a
day longer! Had they measured the extent of his villainy? Would he even
hesitate at murder? And the poor girl asked herself with a shudder if
Pascal were still living; and a vision of his bleeding corpse, lying
lifeless in some deserted street, rose before her. And who could tell
what dangers threatened her personally? For, though she knew the past,
she could not read the future. What did M. de Valorsay's letter mean?
and what was the fate that he held in reserve for her, and that made
him so sanguine of success? The impression produced upon her mind was so
terrible that for a moment she thought of hastening to the old justice
of the peace to ask for his protection and a refuge. But this weakness
did not last long. Should she lose her energy? Should her will fail her
at the decisive moment? "No, a thousand times no!" she said to herself
again and again. "I will die if needs be, but I will die fighting!" And
the nearer she approached the Rue Pigalle, the more energetically she
drove away her apprehension, and sought for an excuse calculated to
satisfy any one who might have noticed her long absence.

An unnecessary precaution. She found the house as when she left it,
abandoned to the mercy of the servants--the strangers sent the evening
before from the employment office. Important matters still kept the
General and his wife from home. The husband had to show his horses; and
the wife was intent upon shopping. As for Madame Leon, most of her time
seemed to be taken up by the family of relatives she had so suddenly
discovered. Alone, free from all espionage, and wishing to ward off
despondency by occupation, Mademoiselle Marguerite was just beginning
a letter to her friend the old magistrate, when a servant entered and
announced that her dressmaker was there and wished to speak with her.
"Let her come in," replied Marguerite, with unusual vivacity. "Let her
come in at once."

A lady who looked some forty years of age, plainly dressed, but of
distinguished appearance, was thereupon ushered into the room. Like any
well-bred modiste, she bowed respectfully while the servant was
present, but as soon as he had left the room she approached Mademoiselle
Marguerite and took hold of her hands: "My dear young lady," said she,
"I am the sister-in-law of your old friend, the magistrate. Having an
important m