illed with louis d'or, which peeped and
glittered through the interstices of the net-work. She gave it with the
air of one who cared nothing for money.

La Corriveau extended both hands eagerly, clutching as with the claws of
a harpy. She pressed the purse to her thin bloodless lips, and touched
with the ends of her bony fingers the edges of the bright coin visible
through the silken net.

"This is indeed a rare earnest-penny!" exclaimed La Corriveau. "I will
do your whole bidding, Mademoiselle; only I must do it in my own way. I
have guessed aright the nature of your trouble and the remedy you seek.
But I cannot guess the name of your false lover, nor that of the woman
whose doom is sealed from this hour."

"I will not tell you the name of my lover," replied Angelique. She
was reluctant to mention the name of Bigot as her lover. The idea was
hateful to her. "The name of the woman I cannot tell you, even if I
would," added she.

"How, Mademoiselle? you put the death-mark upon one you do not know?"

"I do not know her name. Nevertheless, La Corriveau, that gold, and ten
times as much, are yours, if you relieve me of the torment of knowing
that the secret chamber of Beaumanoir contains a woman whose life is
death to all my hopes, and disappointment to all my plans."

The mention of Beaumanoir startled La Corriveau.

"The lady of Beaumanoir!" she exclaimed, "whom the Abenaquis brought
in from Acadia? I saw that lady in the woods of St. Valier, when I was
gathering mandrakes one summer day. She asked me for some water in God's
name. I cursed her silently, but I gave her milk. I had no water.
She thanked me. Oh, how she thanked me! nobody ever before thanked La
Corriveau so sweetly as she did! I, even I, bade her a good journey,
when she started on afresh with her Indian guides, after asking me the
distance and direction of Beaumanoir."

This unexpected touch of sympathy surprised and revolted Angelique a
little.

"You know her then! That is rare fortune, La Corriveau," said she; "she
will remember you, you will have less difficulty in gaining access to
her and winning her confidence."

La Corriveau clapped her hands, laughing a strange laugh, that sounded
as if it came from a deep well.

"Know her? That is all I know; she thanked me sweetly. I said so, did I
not? but I cursed her in my heart when she was gone. I saw she was both
beautiful and good,--two things I hate."

"Do you call her beautiful? I care not