to her to make Etienne inhale its
contents,--"Gabrielle, my knowledge of science tells me that Nature
destined you for each other. I meant to prepare monseigneur the duke
for a marriage which will certainly offend his ideas, but the devil has
already prejudiced him against it. Etienne is Duc de Nivron, and you, my
child, are the daughter of a poor doctor."

"My father swore to contradict me in nothing," said Etienne, calmly.

"He swore to me also to consent to all I might do in finding you a
wife," replied the doctor; "but suppose that he does not keep his
promises?"

Etienne sat down, as if overcome.

"The sea was dark to-night," he said, after a moment's silence.

"If you could ride a horse, monseigneur," said Beauvouloir, "I should
tell you to fly with Gabrielle this very evening. I know you both, and
I know that any other marriage would be fatal to you. The duke would
certainly fling me into a dungeon and leave me there for the rest of my
days when he heard of your flight; and I should die joyfully if my death
secured your happiness. But alas! to mount a horse would risk your life
and that of Gabrielle. We must face your father's anger here."

"Here!" repeated Etienne.

"We have been betrayed by some one in the chateau who has stirred your
father's wrath against us," continued Beauvouloir.

"Let us throw ourselves together into the sea," said Etienne to
Gabrielle, leaning down to the ear of the young girl who was kneeling
beside him.

She bowed her head, smiling. Beauvouloir divined all.

"Monseigneur," he said, "your mind and your knowledge can make you
eloquent, and the force of your love may be irresistible. Declare it to
monseigneur the duke; you will thus confirm my letter. All is not lost,
I think. I love my daughter as well as you love her, and I shall defend
her."

Etienne shook his head.

"The sea was very dark to-night," he repeated.

"It was like a sheet of gold at our feet," said Gabrielle in a voice of
melody.

Etienne ordered lights, and sat down at a table to write to his father.
On one side of him knelt Gabrielle, silent, watching the words he wrote,
but not reading them; she read all on Etienne's forehead. On his
other side stood old Beauvouloir, whose jovial countenance was deeply
sad,--sad as that gloomy chamber where Etienne's mother died. A secret
voice cried to the doctor, "The fate of his mother awaits him!"

When the letter was written, Etienne held it out to the old man,