re came to enliven this landscape
without a garden; he strolled down the avenue with the nonchalance of a
workman paid by the handsome Leon.

I am able to distinguish among the gravest faces those that can relax
into a smile at the sight of gold. The gardener passed before me, and
after he had bestowed upon me the expected smile, I said to him:

"Is this Mad. de Lorgeville's chateau?"

He made an affirmative sign. Once more I bowed to the genius of the
Jerusalem street goddess.

I said to the gardener in a solemn tone: "Here is a letter of the
greatest importance; you must hand it to Mlle. de Chateaudun when she is
alone." I then showed him my purse and said: "After that, this money is
yours."

"The sweet young lady!" said the gardener, walking off towards the
chateau with the gold in one hand, the letter in the other, and the
purse in his eye--"The good young lady! it is a long time since she has
received a love-letter."

I said to myself, The handsome Leon does not indulge in
letter-writing--he has a good reason for that.

The following is the letter carried by the gardener to the chateau:--

"Mademoiselle,--

"Desperate situations justify desperate measures. I am willing to
believe that I am still, by your desire, undergoing a terrible ordeal,
but I judge myself sufficiently tried.

"I am ready for everything except the misery of losing you. My last sane
idea is uttered in this warning.

"I must see you; I must speak to you.

"Do not refuse me a few moments' conversation--Mademoiselle, in the name
of Heaven save me! save yourself!

"There is in the neighborhood of the chateau some farmhouse, or shady
grove. Name any spot where I can meet you in an hour. I am awaiting your
answer.... After an hour has passed I will wait for nothing more in this
world."

The gardener walked along with the nonchalance of the man of the
Georgics, as if meditating upon the sum of happiness contained in a
piece of gold. I looked after him with that resignation we feel as the
end of a great trial approaches.

He was soon lost to view, and in the distance I heard a door open and
shut.

In a few minutes Mlle. Chateaudun would be reading my letter. I read it
over in my own mind, and rapidly conjectured the impression each word
would make upon her heart.

Through the thick foliage where I was concealed, I had a confused view
of one wing of the chateau; the wall appeared to be covered with green
tapestry torn in a thousan