the catastrophe, he has
resorted to illegal means? She is sorry for it. That he will not survive
the taint on his ancient name? What can she do? Sarah, who was able to
clear herself the day after Malgat's disappearance, will not be at a
loss now to establish her innocence."

"But the count, sir, the count! Can we not go to him?"

"Count Ville-Handry would say to you--But you shall hear to-morrow what
he will tell you."

Daniel began to feel utterly dismayed.

"What can be done, then?" he asked.

"We must wait till we have sufficient evidence in hand to crush at one
blow Sarah Brandon, Thorn, and Mrs. Brian."

"Well; but how shall we get such evidence?"

The old gentleman cast a look of intelligence at his sister, smiled, and
said with a strange accent in his voice,--

"I have collected some. As to the rest"--

"Well?"

"Well, my dear M. Champcey, I am no longer troubled about getting more,
since I have found out that the Countess Sarah is in love with you."

Now Daniel began to understand the part Papa Ravinet expected him to
play. Still he did not object; he bowed his head under the clear eye of
Henrietta, and said in a low voice,--

"I will do what you wish me to do, sir."

The old gentleman uttered a low cry of delight, as if he had been
relieved of an overwhelming anxiety.

"Then," he said, "we will begin the campaign tomorrow morning. But we
must know exactly who the enemies are whom we have to meet. Listen,
therefore!"

XXX.

It struck midnight; but the poor people in the little parlor in the
Hotel du Louvre hardly thought of sleep. How could they have become
aware of the flight of time, as long as all their faculties were bent
upon the immense interests that were at stake? On the struggle which
they were about to undertake depended Count Ville-Handry's life and
honor, and the happiness and whole future life of Daniel and Henrietta.

And Papa Ravinet and his sister had said,--"As for us, even more than
that depends upon it." The old dealer, therefore, drew up an easy-
chair, sat down, and began in a somewhat husky voice,--

"The Countess Sarah is not Sarah Brandon, and is not an American. Her
real name, by which she was known up to her sixteenth year, is Ernestine
Bergot; and she was born in Paris, in the suburb of Saint Martin, just
on the line of the corporation. To tell you in detail what the first
years of Sarah were like would be difficult indeed. There are things of
that kind w