sations of
timid lovers, who talk about the rain and the weather in a tone of voice
trembling with desire, and with looks burning with passion.

"Could she really be in love with me?" Daniel thought, "and could that
be her punishment?"

Then, again, swearing, like the roughest of his men, he added,--

"Am I to be a fool forever? Is it not quite clear that this wicked woman
only tries to put my suspicions to sleep? She is evidently preparing for
her defence, in case the rascal who attempted my life should be caught,
and compromise her by his confessions."

Every letter; moreover, brought from the Countess Sarah some news about
his betrothed, her "stepdaughter." But she always spoke of her with
extreme reserve and reticence, and in ambiguous terms, as if counting
upon Daniel's sagacity to guess what she could not or would not write.
According to her account, Henrietta had become reconciled to her
father's marriage. The poor child's melancholy had entirely disappeared.
Miss Henrietta was very friendly with Sir Thorn. The coquettish ways of
the young girl became quite alarming; and her indiscretion provoked the
gossip of visitors. Daniel might as well accustom himself to the idea,
that, on his return, he might find Henrietta a married woman.

"She lies, the wretch!" said Daniel; "yes, she lies!"

But he tried in vain to resist; every letter from Sarah brought him the
germ of some new suspicion, which fermented in his mind as the miasma
fermented in the veins of his men.

The information furnished by Maxime de Brevan was different, and
often contradictory even, but by no means more reassuring. His letters
portrayed the perplexity and the hesitation of a man who is all anxiety
to soften hard truths. According to him, the Countess Sarah and Miss
Ville-Handry did not get on well with each other; but he declared he was
bound to say that the wrong was all on the young lady's side, who seemed
to make it the study of her life to mortify her step-mother, while the
latter bore the most irritating provocations with unchanging sweetness.
He alluded to the calumnies which endangered Miss Henrietta's
reputation, admitting that she had given some ground for them by
thoughtless acts. He finally added that he foresaw the moment when
she would leave her father's house in spite of all his advice to the
contrary.

"And not one line from her," exclaimed Daniel,--"not one line!"

And he wrote her letter after letter, beseeching her to