only pity
for the poor man; and I besought him to give the wretch the means to
escape. But he was inflexible. Seeing, however, how excited I was, he
tried to reassure me by telling me that Malgat would certainly not come,
that he would not dare to expect an answer to such a letter."

She pressed both her hands on her heart, as if to still its beating; and
then continued, in a weak voice,--

"Nevertheless, he came, and, seeing his hopes disappointed, he insisted
upon speaking to us. The servants let him go up, and he entered. Ah!
if I lived a thousand years, I should never forget that fearful scene.
Feeling that all was lost, this thief, this defaulter, had become
enraged; he demanded money. At first he asked for it on his knees in
humble words; but, when he found that this did not answer, he suddenly
rose in a perfect fury, his mouth foaming, his eyes bloodshot, and
overwhelmed us with the coarsest insults. At last M. Elgin's patience
gave out, and he rang for the servants. They had to employ force to drag
him out; and, as they pushed him down stairs, he threatened us with his
fist, and swore that he would be avenged."

Miss Brandon shuddered till she appeared to be all in a quiver; and, for
a moment, Daniel thought she was going to be ill. But she made an effort
to overcome her weakness; and, in a more decided tone, she continued,--

"Forty-eight hours passed; and the impression of this horrible scene
began to fade from our minds, till it appeared like a bad dream. If we
mentioned Malgat at all, it was with pity and contempt; for what could
he do to us? Nothing, you will say. Even if he should dare to accuse
us of some great crime, we thought no one would listen to him, and we
should never hear of it. How could we imagine that the world would set
to work doubting our honor upon the mere word of a wretch like him?

"His crime had, in the meantime, become known; and all the papers were
full of it, adding a number of more or less reliable stories. They
exaggerated the sums he had stolen; and they said he had succeeded in
escaping to England, and that the police had lost his traces in London.

"I, poor girl, had nearly forgotten the whole matter.

"He had really fled; but, before leaving Paris, he had succeeded in
preparing everything for the vengeance which he had threatened. Where
could he have found people mean enough to serve his purposes? and who
were they? I do not know. Perhaps he did nothing more, as Mrs. Bri