royal treasures to give you. And I have them.
These much coveted millions are mine, and you are here; and now I can
say to you, 'Take them, they are yours; I give them to you as I give
myself to you.'"

She had drawn herself up to her full height as she said this; and she
looked splendid and fearful at the same time, in her matchless beauty,
diffusing energy and immodesty around her, and shaking her head
defiantly, till the waves of golden hair flowed over her shoulders.

The untamed vagabond of the gutter reappeared all of a sudden,
breathless and trembling, hoarse, lusting.

Daniel felt as if his reason was giving way. Still he had the strength
to say,--

"But unfortunately you are not a widow."

She drew close up to him, and said in a strident voice,--

"Not a widow? Do you know what Count Ville-Handry is doing at this
moment? He is beseeching his stockholders to relieve him from the
effects of his mismanagement. If they refuse him, he will be brought up
in court, and tried as a defaulter. Well, I tell you! they will refuse
him; for among the largest stockholders there are three who belong to
me: I have bribed them to refuse. What do you think the count will do
when he finds himself dishonored and disgraced? I will tell you again;
for I have seen him write his will, and load his revolver."

But the door of the outer room was opened. She turned as pale as death
itself, and, seizing Daniel's arm violently, she whispered,--

"Listen!"

Heavy steps were heard in the adjoining room, then--nothing more!

"It is he!" she whispered again. "Our fate is hanging in the scales"--

A shot was heard, which made the window-panes rattle, and cut her
short. She was seized with spasms from head to foot, but, making a great
effort, she cried out,--

"Free at last, Daniel; we are free!"

And, rushing to the door, she opened it.

She opened it, but instantly shut it again violently, and uttered a
terrible cry.

On the threshold stood Count Ville-Handry, his features terribly
distorted, a smoking revolver in his hand.

"No," he said, "Sarah, no, you are not free!"

Livid, and with eyeballs starting from their sockets, the wretched woman
had shrunk back to a door which opened from the dining-room directly
into her chamber.

She was not despairing yet.

It was evident she was looking for one of those almost incredible
excuses which are sometimes accepted by credulous old men when violent
passions seize them in their