passage, and then down a small winding staircase all pitch dark, and
then I came to a dead halt against a wall. I must own that I had some
slight shudderings and misgivings while I was feeling about for the
spring, till I got hold of it. Deuce take these dungeons, Flor!' he
cried, quite amused: 'Are there many of these moleworks in this
place?--whither have they led me? Where am I now, Flor? Surely ... this
is not your room, Flor? is it--was it not--my mother's? and now,
now--does not--yes--does not Gabrielle--sleep--'

"He broke off short, and looked at me--and, oh! such a look of horror
flared up in his frightened eyes. And then he closed them, as though he
could not bear to look again on any human being. I myself felt more
dead than alive, but I made an effort to speak--to say something.

"'It was for her health,' I said; 'only because the sun is on this
room, that my master desired me to give it to Gabrielle. My dear
boy,--my darling--what is it you are thinking of? What is there in this
to trouble you so terribly? That passage,--you see, nobody ever knew of
it--not even your father, probably. It is true the mechanism has not
rusted--the springs slip smoothly into their grooves, but that is no
reason--my dear Count Ernest--you cannot think--how should damp or dust
get at it, where we take such care? It is a curious coincidence--a
chance;' I said, and tried to feel convinced; 'how could it be anything
else? and she such a modest girl, and so particular about her honor;
and but a few months ago, my master'--And then I was fool enough--only
think of the stupidity, Sir--to go and rake up that story of the duel,
and in my fright I thought I was doing wonders to make him easy, and
myself. But even whilst I was talking, the scales were dropping from my
eyes; I saw how it was--who ever _does_ fight a duel for a servant
after all? When I thought of this, I came to stammering, and could find
nothing wiser to go on with than: 'It would be beyond belief--it must
be a mistake,--or else I could never trust one human creature on earth
again--scarcely the Lord in heaven.'

"He looked up at his father's picture on the wall, and then at her
little trunk, and I saw that he did not believe in a mistake. I had
taken hold of his hand in my agitation, and I felt that it was quite
numb and cold; I don't believe there was a pulse in it. 'Flor,' he
said, in a low voice; 'You will never tell how it chanced--you will
tell no living soul--pr