g at the momentary hesitation Raoul had manifested.

The latter replied by springing up the dark staircase after her. They
thus climbed up three stories, he behind her, touching with his hands,
when he felt for the banister, a silk dress which rubbed against
each side of the staircase. At every false step made by Raoul, his
conductress cried, "Hush!" and held out to him a soft and perfumed hand.

"One would mount thus to the belfry of the castle without being
conscious of fatigue," said Raoul.

"All of which means, monsieur, that you are very much perplexed, very
tired, and very uneasy. But be of good cheer, monsieur; here we are, at
our destination."

The girl threw open a door, which immediately, without any transition,
filled with a flood of light the landing of the staircase, at the top of
which Raoul appeared, holding fast by the balustrade.

The girl continued to walk on--he followed her; she entered a
chamber--he did the same.

As soon as he was fairly in the net he heard a loud cry, and, turning
round, saw at two paces from him, with her hands clasped and her eyes
closed, that beautiful fair girl with blue eyes and white shoulders,
who, recognizing him, called him Raoul.

He saw her, and divined at once so much love and so much joy in the
expression of her countenance, that he sank on his knees in the middle
of the chamber, murmuring, on his part, the name of Louise.

"Ah! Montalais--Montalais!" she sighed, "it is very wicked to deceive me
so."

"Who, I? I have deceived you?"

"Yes; you told me you would go down to inquire the news, and you have
brought up monsieur!"

"Well, I was obliged to do so--how else could he have received the
letter you wrote him?" And she pointed with her finger to the letter
which was still upon the table.

Raoul made a step to take it; Louise, more rapid, although she had
sprung forward with a sufficiently remarkable physical hesitation,
reached out her hand to stop him. Raoul came in contact with that
trembling hand, took it within his own, and carried it so respectfully
to his lips, that he might be said to have deposited a sigh upon it
rather than a kiss.

In the meantime Mademoiselle de Montalais had taken the letter, folded
it carefully, as women do, in three folds, and slipped it into her
bosom.

"Don't be afraid, Louise," said she; "monsieur will no more venture to
take it hence than the defunct king Louis XIII. ventured to take billets
from the corsage of Ma