ther motive. You may say, it was fear which
drove him to it. No; for at the time when he engaged Crochard, he could
not foresee the atrocious outrages of which he would have become guilty
during the succeeding year. Believe my experience; I discern in the
whole affair a hurry and an awkwardness which betray a passion, a
violent hatred, or, perhaps"--

He stopped suddenly, and seemed to reflect and deliberate, while he was
mechanically stroking his chin. Then all of a sudden, looking strangely
at Daniel, he asked him,--

"Could the Countess Sarah be in love with you, M. Champcey?"

Daniel's face turned crimson. He had not forgotten that fatal evening,
when, in the house in Circus Street, he had held Sarah Brandon in his
arms; and the intoxicating delirium of that moment had left in his heart
a bitter and undying pang of remorse. He had never dared confess to
Henrietta that Sarah had actually come to his rooms alone. And even
to-night, while giving very fully all the details of his passage out,
and his residence in Saigon, he had not said a word of the letters which
had been addressed to him by the countess.

"Sarah Brandon in love with me?" he stammered. "What an idea!"

But he could not tell a falsehood; and Henrietta would not have been a
woman, if she had not noticed his embarrassment.

"Why not?" she asked.

And, looking fixedly at Daniel, she went on,--

"That wretched woman impudently boasted to my face that she loved you;
more than that, she swore that you, also, had loved her, and were still
in love with her. She laughed at me contemptuously, telling me that she
had it in her power to make you do anything she chose, and offering to
show me your letters"--

She paused a moment, turned her head aside, and said with a visible
effort,--

"Finally, M. Thomas Elgin assured me that Sarah Brandon had been your
mistress, and that the marriage with my father took place only in
consequence of a quarrel between you."

Daniel had listened to her, trembling with indignation. He now cried
out,--

"And you could believe these false calumnies! Oh, no, no! tell me that
there is no need for me to justify myself to"--

Then turning to Papa Ravinet, he said,--

"Suppose, we admit, for a moment, that she might have been in love, as
you say, what would that prove?"

The cunning old dealer remained apparently unmoved for a time; but his
small eyes were sparkling with malicious delight and satisfaction.

"Ah! you wou