ould have been likely to let his intention be
known. I came up the St. Bernard, drawn by a chain that your own heart
will own is difficult to break if you are a father. My daughter was on the
road to Italy with kind and true friends, who were not ashamed to feel for
a headsman's child, and who took her in order to heal the wound that had
been so unfeelingly inflicted."

"This is true!" exclaimed the Baron de Willading; "Balthazar surely says
naught but truth here!"

"This is known and allowed; crime is not always the result of cool
determination, but it comes of terror, of sudden thought, the angry mood,
the dire temptation, and a fair occasion. Though thou left'st Vevey
ignorant of Jacques Colis' departure, didst thou hear nothing of his
movements by the way?"

Balthazar changed color. There was evidently a struggle in his bosom, as
if he shrunk from making an acknowledgment that might militate against his
interests; but, glancing an eye at the guides, he recovered his proper
tone of mind, and answered firmly:

"I did. Pierre Dumont had heard the tale of my child's disgrace, and,
ignorant that I was the injured parent, he told me of the manner in which
the unhappy man had retreated from the mockery of his companions. I knew,
therefore, that we were on the same path."

"And yet thou perseveredst?"

"In what, Herr Chatelain? Was I to desert my daughter, because one who had
already proved false to her stood in my way?"

"Thou hast well answered, Balthazar," interrupted Marguerite. "Thou hast
answered as became thee! We are few, and we are all to each other. Thou
wert not to forget our child because it pleased others to despise her."

The Signor Grimaldi bent towards the Valaisan, and whispered near his ear.

"This hath the air of nature." he observed; "and does it not account for
the appearance of the father on the road taken by the murdered man?"

"We do not question the probability or justness of such a motive, Signore;
but revenge may have suddenly mounted to the height of ferocity in some
wrangle: one accustomed to blood yields easily to his passions and his
habits."

The truth of these suggestions was plausible, and the noble Genoese drew
back in cold disappointment. The chatelain consulted with those about him,
and then desired the wife to come forth in order to be confronted with her
husband. Marguerite obeyed. Her movement was slow, and her whole manner
that of one who yielded to a stern necessity.