to obtain your hand. You had promised to wait;
and I was happy to think that I should owe you to my sole exertions.
Events have crushed my hopes. I am to-day compelled to acknowledge
that all my efforts would be in vain. To wait would be to run the
risk of losing you. Therefore I hesitate no longer. I want what's
mine: I wish to recover that of which I have been robbed. Whatever
I may do,--for, alas! I know not to what I may be driven, what
role I may have to play,--remember that of all my acts, of all my
thoughts, there will not be a single one that does not aim to bring
nearer the blessed day when you shall become my wife."

There was in his voice so much unspeakable affection, that the young
girl could hardly restrain her tears.

"Never, whatever may happen, shall I doubt you, Marius," she uttered.

He took her hands, and, pressing them passionately within his,

"And I," he exclaimed, "I swear, that, sustained by the thought of
you, there is no disgust that I will not overcome, no obstacle that
I will not overthrow."

He spoke so loud, that two or three persons stopped. He noticed it,
and was brought suddenly from sentiment to the reality,

"Wretches that we are," he said in a low voice, and very fast, "we
forget what this interview may cost us!"

And he led Mlle. Gilberte across the Boulevard; and, whilst making
their way to the Rue St. Gilles, through the deserted streets,

"It is a dreadful imprudence we have just committed," resumed M. de
Tregars. "But it was indispensable that we should see each other;
and we had not the choice of means. Now, and for a long time, we
shall be separated. Every thing you wish me to know,--say it to
that worthy Gismondo, who repeats faithfully to me every word you
utter. Through him, also, you shall hear from me. Twice a week,
on Tuesdays and Fridays, about nightfall, I shall pass by your house;
and, if I am lucky enough to have a glimpse of you, I shall return
home fired with fresh energy. Should any thing extraordinary
happen, beckon to me, and I'll wait for you in the Rue des Minimes.
But this is an expedient to which we must only resort in the last
extremity. I should never forgive myself, were I to compromise your
fair name."

They had reached the Rue St. Gilles. Marius stopped.

"We must part," he began.

But then only Mlle. Gilberte remembered M. de Tregars' letter, which
she had in her pocket. Taking it out, and handing it to him,

"Here," she