give her but
the sad spectacle of a broken-down man, and leave on her mind only the
impression of a human ruin. And then--and then--not to see her! not to
have the right to see her! that is all right--it is my chastisement!'

"Let it be so! I understood. I feared that an interview would be mortal.
He had been so terribly agitated when he had sent for me that other
time.

"But I, at least, wished to recall to him his former wish which he had
expressed of providing for the girl's future. I desired that he should
make up for the past, since money is one of the forms of reparation. But
I dared not speak to him again in regard to it, or of that trust of
which he had spoken.

"He said to me, this strong man whom Death had never frightened, and
whom he had braved many times, he said to me now, weakened by this
illness which was killing him hour by hour:

"If I knew that my end was near I would decide--but I have time."

"Time! Each day brought him a little nearer to that life about which I
feared to say to him: 'The time has come!' The fear, in urging him to a
last resolution, of seeming like an executioner whose presence seemed to
say: 'To-day is the day!' prevented me. You understand, Monsieur? And
why not? I ought to wait no longer. Rovere's confidence had made of me a
second Rovere who possessed the strength and force of will which the
first one now lacked. I felt that I held in my hands, so to speak,
Marthe's fate. I did not know her, but I looked upon her as a martyr in
her vocation of nurse to the old paralytic to whom she was paying, in
love, the debt of the dead wife. I said to myself: 'It is to me, to me
alone, that Rovere must give instructions of what he wishes to leave to
his daughter, and it is for me to urge him to do this, it is for me to
brace his weakened will! I was resolved! It was a duty! Each day the
unhappy man's strength failed. I saw it--this human ruin! One morning,
when I went to his apartments, I found him in a singular state of
terror. He related me a story, I knew not what, of a thief, whose victim
he was; the lock of his door had been forced, his safe opened. Then,
suddenly, interrupting himself, he began to laugh, a feeble laugh, which
made me ill.

"'I am a fool,' he said. 'I am dreaming, awake--I continue in the
daytime the nightmares of the night--a thief here! No one has come--Mme.
Moniche has watched--but my head is so weak, so weak! I have known so
many rascals in my life! Rascals a