m with an idea of
its importance."

And with these words Tom and Sarah quitted the splendid ball of the
ambassadress of the court of ----.

CHAPTER II.

THE RENDEZVOUS.

Determined at all risks to warn Madame d'Harville of the danger she was
incurring, Rodolph had quitted the winter garden without waiting to hear
the remainder of the conversation between Sarah and her brother, thus
remaining ignorant of their designs against Fleur-de-Marie, and of the
extreme peril which threatened the poor girl. But, spite of his earnest
desire to apprise the marquise of the plot laid against her peace and
honour, he was unable to carry his design into execution, for Madame
d'Harville, unable to bear up longer after the trying events of the
evening, had abandoned her original intention of visiting the
entertainment given by Madame de Nerval and gone direct home.

This contretemps ruined his hopes. Nearly the whole of the company
present at the ambassadress's ball had been invited to that of Madame de
Nerval's, and Rodolph drove rapidly thither, taking with him M. de
Grauen, to whom he gave instructions to look for Madame d'Harville among
the guests, and to acquaint her that the prince, having something of the
utmost consequence to communicate to her without the least delay, would
walk onwards to the Hotel d'Harville, and await her return home, when he
would say a few words at the carriage-door while her servants were
attending to the opening of the entrance-gates.

After much time spent in fruitless endeavours to find Madame d'Harville,
De Grauen was compelled to return with the account of his ill success.
This failure made Rodolph despair of being able, now, to save the
marquise from impending ruin; his first thought had been to warn her of
the treachery intended, and so prevent the statement of Sarah, which he
had no means of keeping from the hands of M. d'Harville, from obtaining
the slightest credence. Alas! it was now too late. The infamous epistle
dictated by the Countess Macgregor had reached the Marquis d'Harville
shortly after midnight on the night in question.

* * * * *

It was morning; and M. d'Harville continued slowly to pace his
sleeping-apartment, the bed of which gave no indication of having been
used during the night, though the silken counterpane hung in fragments,
evidently proving that some powerful and devastating storm had possessed
the mind of its owner.

The ch