r speak to me any more of your enemies?" he said.

She doubtless understood what was passing within him.

"It's because I don't hear any thing of them myself," she answered
gently.

"Then you have given up your purpose?"

"Not at all."

"What are your hopes, then, and what are your prospects?"

"Extraordinary as it may seem to you, I must confess that I know
nothing about it. My friend the commissary has his plan, I am
certain; and he is following it with an indefatigable obstinacy.
I am but an instrument in his hands. I never do any thing without
consulting him; and what he advises me to do I do."

Maxence started upon his chair.

"Was it he, then," he said in a tone of bitter irony, "who suggested
to you the idea of our fraternal association?"

A frown appeared upon the girl's countenance. She evidently felt
hurt by the tone of this species of interrogatory.

"At least he did not disapprove of it," she replied.

But that answer was just evasive enough to excite Maxence's anxiety.

"Was it from him too," he went on, "that came the lovely idea of
having me enter the Mutual Credit?"

"Yes, it was from him."

"For what purpose?"

"He did not explain."

"Why did you not tell me?"

"Because he requested me not to do so."

From being red at the start, Maxence had now become very pale.

"And so," he resumed, "it is that man, that police-agent, who is
the real arbiter of my fate; and if to-morrow he commanded you to
break off with me--"

Mlle. Lucienne drew herself up.

"Enough!" she interrupted in a brief tone, "enough! There is not
in my whole existence a single act which would give to my bitterest
enemy the right to suspect my loyalty; and now you accuse me of
the basest treason. What have you to reproach me with? Have I
not been faithful to the pact sworn between us. Have I not always
been for you the best of comrades and the most devoted of friends?
I remained silent, because the man in whom I have the fullest
confidence requested me to do so; but he knew, that, if you
questioned me, I would speak. Did you question me? And now what
more do you want? That I should stoop to quiet the suspicions of
your morbid mind? That I do not mean to do."

She was not, perhaps, entirely right; but Maxence was certainly
wrong. He acknowledged it, wept, implored her pardon, which was
granted; and this explanation only served to rivet more closely
the fetters that bound him.

It is true, that, ava