is all I have, Auguste," said his sister, sadly.

"Ha!" he said dramatically, "I see, they seek my destruction. This
man"--pointing at me--"is a Federalist, and Madame la Vicomtesse"--he
bowed ironically--"is a Royalist."

"Pish!" said the Vicomtesse, impatiently, "it would be an easy matter to
have you sent to the Morro--a word to Monsieur de Carondelet, Auguste.
Do you believe for a moment that, in your father's absence, I would have
allowed Antoinette to come here alone? And it was a happy circumstance
that I could call on such a man as Mr. Ritchie to come with us."

"It seems to me that Mr. Ritchie and his friends have already brought
sufficient misfortune on the family."

It was a villanous speech. Antoinette turned away, her shoulders
quivering, and I took a step towards him; but Madame la Vicomtesse made
a swift gesture, and I stopped, I know not why. She gave an exclamation
so sharp that he flinched physically, as though he had been struck. But
it was characteristic of her that when she began to speak, her words cut
rather than lashed.

"Auguste de St. Gre," she said, "I know you. The Tribunal is merciful
compared to you. There is no one on earth whom you would not torture for
your selfish ends, no one whom you would not sell without compunction
for your pleasure. There are things that a woman should not mention, and
yet I would tell them without shame to your face were it not for your
sister. If it were not for her, I would not have you in my presence.
Shall I speak of your career in France? There is Valenciennes, for
example--"

She stopped abruptly. The man was gray, but not on his account did the
Vicomtesse stay her speech. She forgot him as though he did not exist,
and by one of those swift transitions which thrilled me had gone to the
sobbing Antoinette and taken her in her arms, murmuring endearments
of which our language is not capable. I, too, forgot Auguste. But no
rebuke, however stinging, could make him forget himself, and before we
realized it he was talking again. He had changed his tactics.

"This is my home," he said, "where I might expect shelter and comfort.
You make me an outcast."

Antoinette disengaged herself from Helene with a cry, but he turned away
from her and shrugged.

"A stranger would have fared better. Perhaps you will have more
consideration for a stranger. There is a French ship at the Terre aux
Boeufs in the English Turn, which sails to-night. I appeal to you, Mr.
Ri