iture of his chateau,--reputed to be the most costly in the whole
kingdom. The report goes that the pictures alone were estimated at
several millions of francs. Carew at once accepts the proposition; but,
as if not to be outdone in generosity, even by a royal prince, he lets
it be known that he will only accept of one solitary article from the
whole collection,--rather, in fact, a souvenir than a ransom. I suppose
the prince, like everybody else, felt that this was very handsome
conduct, for he frankly said: 'The chateau and all within it are at his
disposal; I reserve nothing.' Armed with this authority, Carew never
waits for morning, but starts that night, by post, for Auvergne,
where the chateau lies. I believe it is not ascertained whether he was
previously acquainted with the circumstances of the prince's domestic
affairs. The probability, however, is that he must have been; for within
a week he returned to Paris, bringing with him the object selected as
his choice, in the person of a beautiful girl, the natural daughter of
his Royal Highness. Whether he married her then under compulsion, or
subsequently of his own free will, is to this day a secret. One thing,
however, is certain: he was banished from the French territory by a
summary order, which gave him barely time to reach the coast and
embark. Of course, once in England, he had only to select some secluded,
out-of-the-way spot for a while, and there could be no likelihood
of leaving any trace to his adventure. Indeed, the chances are that
Rutledge is about the only man who could have unravelled so tangled a
skein. How he ever contrived to do so, is more than I can tell you!"

My father sat listening to this story more like one whose faculties are
under the dominion of some powerful spell, than of a man in the free
exercise of reason. There was something in the mingled truth and
falsehood of the tale that terrified and confused him. Up to that moment
he had no notion in what a light his conduct could be exhibited, nor
could he see by what means the calumny could be resented. There was,
however, one name he could fix upon. Rutledge at least should be
accountable! There was enough of falsehood in the story to brand him as
a foul slanderer, and he should not escape him.

By an effort that demanded all his strength my father rose, the cold
sweat dropping from his forehead, and every limb trembling, from
weakness and passion. His object was to present himself to th