Come, make up your mind,--no ambiguity. I
either serve you, or you shall serve me; if not, I leave your house, and
beg my aunt to find me another place. All this may, perhaps, appear
strange to you; but if you take me for an adventuress, without any means
of existence, you are wrong. In order that my aunt should be my
accomplice without knowing it, I have made her believe that I was so
poor that I could not purchase any other garments than those I now wear.
I have, however, as you see, a tolerably well filled purse; on this side
gold, on the other diamonds" (and Cecily displayed before the notary's
eyes a long, red silk purse, filled with gold, and through the meshes of
which he could also see several sparkling gems). "Unfortunately all the
money in the world could not purchase for me a retreat so secure as your
house,--so isolated, from the very solitude in which you live. Accept,
then, one or other of my offers, and you will do me a kindness. You see
I place myself almost at your discretion; for to say to you, I conceal
myself, is to say to you I am sought for. But I am sure you will not
betray me, even if you could."

This romantic confidence, this sudden change of character, completely
upset all Jacques Ferrand's ideas. Who was this woman? Why did she
conceal herself? Was it chance alone that had brought her to him? If she
came with some secret aim, what could it be? Amongst all the ideas which
this singular adventure gave rise to in the notary's mind, the real
motive of the creole's presence did not occur to him. He had not, or,
rather, he believed he had no other enemies than the victims of his
licentiousness and his cupidity, and all these were in such miserable
circumstances that he could not suspect them capable of spreading any
net for him, of which Cecily should be the bait.

And then, moreover, what could be the motive of any such snare? No, the
sudden transformation of Cecily inspired Jacques Ferrand with one fear
only--he believed that this woman did not tell the truth, and was,
perhaps, an adventuress, who, thinking him rich, had introduced herself
into his house to wheedle and get money from him, and, perhaps, induce
him to marry her. But although his avarice at once revolted at this
idea, he perceived (and trembled) that his suspicions and reflections
were too late, for he might by one word have calmed his distrust by
sending away this woman from his house,--but this word he could not say.

These thou