eading the letter; "she deserts the battlefield
and leaves behind her wounded."

"But I saw her, not two hours ago, and, although she was very angry, she
did not say one word of this departure."

"Jean handed me this letter but a moment ago, clad in full livery, and
with the importance of an ambassador who demands his passports. You must
go and talk with her, dear, and use all your eloquence to make her change
her mind."

"I will go at once," said Clemence, rising.

"You know that your aunt is rather obstinate when she takes a notion into
her head. If she persists in this, tell her, in order to decide her to
remain, that I am obliged to go to Epinal with Monsieur de Carrier
tomorrow morning, on account of the sale of some wood-land, and that I
shall be absent three days at least. You understand that it will be
difficult for your aunt to leave you alone during my absence, on account
of these gentlemen."

"Certainly, that could not be," said she, quickly.

"I do not see, as far as I am concerned, anything improper about it,"
said the Baron, trying to smile; "but we must obey the proprieties. You
are too young and too pretty a mistress of the house to pass for a
chaperon, and Aline, instead of being a help, would be one inconvenience
the more. So your aunt must stay here until my return."

"And by that time Constance and Baptiste will be both cured and her anger
will have passed away. You did not tell me about this trip to Epinal nor
the selling of the woodland."

"Go to your aunt's room before she retires to bed," replied Bergenheim,
without paying any attention to this remark, and seating himself in the
armchair; "I will wait for you here. We leave to-morrow morning early,
and I wish to know tonight what to depend upon."

As soon as Madame de Bergenheim had left the room, Christian arose and
ran, rather than walked, to the space between the two windows, and sought
the button in the woodwork of which Lambernier had told him. He soon
found it, and upon his first pressure the spring worked and the panel
flew open. The casket was upon the shelf; he took it and carefully
examined the letters which it contained. The greater part of them
resembled in form the one that he possessed; some of them were in
envelopes directed to Madame de Bergenheim and bore Gerfaut's crest.
There was no doubt about the identity of the handwriting; if the Baron
had had any, these proofs were enough. After glancing rapidly over a few
of th