he future in their own minds, prophesy to their own
souls, know of an event before it happens, and yet they say nothing of
all this. If, in the hush of meditation, they sometimes use their
power to observe and recognize that which goes on around them, they are
satisfied with having divined its meaning; their occupations hurry them
on, and they frequently make false application of the knowledge they
have acquired about the things of life. Sometimes they wake from their
social apathy, or they drop from the world of thought to the world of
life; at such times they come with well-stored memories, and are by no
means strangers to what is happening.

Balthazar, who joined the perspicacity of the heart to that of the
brain, knew his daughter's whole past; he knew, or he had guessed, the
history of the hidden love that united her with Emmanuel: he now showed
this delicately, and sanctioned their affection by taking part in it.
It was the sweetest flattery a father could bestow, and the lovers were
unable to resist it. The evening passed delightfully,--contrasting
with the griefs which threatened the lives of these poor children. When
Balthazar retired, after, as we may say, filling his family with light
and bathing them with tenderness, Emmanuel de Solis, who had shown some
embarrassment of manner, took from his pockets three thousand ducats in
gold, the possession of which he had feared to betray. He placed them
on the work-table, where Marguerite covered them with some linen she
was mending; and then he went to his own house to fetch the rest of the
money. When he returned, Felicie had gone to bed. Eleven o'clock struck;
Martha, who sat up to undress her mistress, was still with Felicie.

"Where can we hide it?" said Marguerite, unable to resist the pleasure
of playing with the gold ducats,--a childish amusement which proved
disastrous.

"I will lift this marble pedestal, which is hollow," said Emmanuel;
"you can slip in the packages, and the devil himself will not think of
looking for them there."

Just as Marguerite was making her last trip but one from the work-table
to the pedestal, carrying the gold, she suddenly gave a piercing cry,
and let fall the packages, the covers of which broke as they fell, and
the coins were scattered about the room. Her father stood at the parlor
door; the avidity of his eyes terrified her.

"What are you doing," he said, looking first at his daughter, whose
terror nailed her to the floor