e smile played on the man's lips; and, shaking his head, he
said, "I shall before long remind you of your promise, lieutenant."

Standing between the two men, the captain of "The Saint Louis" was
looking alternately at the one and the other with an astonished air,
listening without comprehending, and imagining marvellous things. The
only point he understood was this, that his presence was, to say the
least, not useful.

"If that is so," he said to Daniel, "we cannot blame this gentleman for
the ugly trick he has played us."

"Blame him? Oh, certainly not!"

"Then I'll leave you. I believe I have treated the sailor who brought
him on board a little roughly; but I am going to order him a glass of
brandy, which will set him right again."

Thereupon the captain discreetly withdrew; while Papa Ravinet
continued,--

"You will tell me, M. Champcey, that it would have been simpler to wait
for you in port, and hand you my letter of introduction there. That
would have been grievous imprudence. If I heard at the navy department
of your arrival, others may have learned it as well. As soon, therefore,
as 'The Saint Louis' was telegraphed in town, you may be sure a spy was
sent to the wharf, who is going to follow you, never losing sight of
you, and who will report all your goings and your doings."

"What does it matter?"

"Ah! do not say so, sir! If our enemies hear of our meeting, you see,
if they only find out that we have conversed together, all is lost. They
would see the danger that threatens them, and they would escape."

Daniel could hardly trust his ears.

"Our enemies?" he asked, emphasizing the word "our."

"Yes: I mean _our_ enemies,--Sarah Brandon, Countess Ville-Handry,
Maxime de Brevan, Thomas Elgin, and Mrs. Brian."

"You hate them?"

"If I hate them! I tell you for five years I have lived only on the hope
of being able to avenge myself on them. Yes, it is five years now, that,
lost in the crowd, I have followed them with the perseverance of an
Indian,--five years that I have patiently, incessantly, inch by inch,
undermined the ground beneath their steps. And they suspect nothing. I
doubt whether they are aware of my existence. No, not even--What would
it be to them, besides? They have pushed me so far down into the mud,
that they cannot imagine my ever rising again up to their level. They
triumph with impunity; they boast of their unpunished wickedness, and
think they are strong, and safe from all att