he took a light, went to my room, to her own, opened lockers and
closets. She asked for the key to her secretary which she said she had
lost. Where could that key be? She had it in her possession not an hour
ago.

"Come, come! I am ready," she repeated in extreme agitation; "let us go,
Octave, let us set out at once."

While speaking she continued her search and then came and sat down near
us.

I was seated on the sofa watching Smith, who stood before me. He had not
changed countenance and seemed neither troubled nor surprised; but two
drops of sweat trickled down his forehead, and I heard an ivory counter
crack between his fingers, the pieces falling to the floor. He held out
both hands to us.

"Bon voyage, my friends!" he said.

Again silence; I was still watching him, waiting for him to add a word.
"If there is some secret here," thought I, "when shall I learn it, if not
now? It must be on the lips of both of them. Let it but come out into the
light and I will seize it."

"My dear Octave," said Brigitte, "where are we to stop? You will write to
us, Henri, will you not? You will not forget my relatives and will do
what you can for me?" He replied in a voice that trembled slightly that
he would do all in his power to serve her.

"I can answer for nothing," he said, "and, judging from the letters you
have received, there is not much hope. But it will not be my fault if I
do not send you good news. Count on me, I am devoted to you."

After a few more kind words he made ready to take his departure. I arose
and left the room before him; I wished to leave them together a moment
for the last time and, as soon as I had closed the door behind me, in a
perfect rage of jealousy, I pressed my ear to the keyhole.

"When shall I see you again?" he asked.

"Never," replied Brigitte; "adieu, Henri." She held out her hand. He bent
over it, pressed it to his lips and I had barely time to slip into a
corner as he passed out without seeing me.

Alone with Brigitte, my heart sank within me. She was waiting for me, her
shawl on her arm, and emotion plainly marked on her face. She had found
the key she had been looking for and her desk was open. I returned and
sat down near the fire. "Listen to me," I said, without daring to look at
her; "I have been so culpable in my treatment of you that I ought to wait
and suffer without a word of complaint. The change which has taken place
in you has thrown me into such despair that I have