same hospital, in the
Rue Lacepede. I was then the valet of an English gentleman, who died
there of cholera. While I was there--for, after the death of my
employer, I was engaged as a kind of interpreter for the English
patients who did not speak French--the _Hopital des Enfants Malades_
was full, and a portion of our establishment was devoted to foreign
children. I well remember two children of the name of Margaret; and I
have reason to remember them;" and Andre glanced tenderly at Maggie.
"One of them died, and the other is my Maggie."

"But what was the other name of the one that died?" asked Fitz,
nervously.

"Marguerite Chuckingham. I suppose there were other Marguerites there;
but I did not know them. They could not find the dead child's parents;
they were dead themselves. I would like to see your mother's letter,"
added Andre.

Accepting Fitz's invitation, the barber and his daughter walked over to
"his house," and were introduced to Mrs. Wittleworth. Andre repeated
his story about the two Marguerites, and she was quite as much
interested in it as her son had been.

"I have the letter," said she. "I thought the property was mine, and
that the letter might be of use to me; so I have carefully preserved
it."

She went to the bureau, and produced the letter. It contained a pitiful
account of the sufferings of Mrs. Checkynshaw during the cholera
season, and the announcement of little Marguerite's death at the
hospital in the Rue Lacepede.

"That's the place!" exclaimed Andre, much excited.

"What became of the child?" asked Mrs. Wittleworth, not less agitated.

"It must have been Marguerite Chuckingham, for that was as near as a
Frenchman would be likely to get the name."

"But it may have been the other Marguerite," suggested Mrs.
Wittleworth.

"No!" exclaimed Andre, with something like a shudder at the thought of
having Maggie taken from him, even to dwell in the palatial home of the
banker.

"Why may it not have been?"

"Because I traced the parents of my Maggie to their lodgings, and both
of them had died of cholera. The _concierge_ identified the clothing
and a locket I found upon her neck. Besides, Maggie spoke French then,
and the other child did not. I have no doubt the child that died was
Mr. Checkynshaw's."

"Andre, your hand!" said Fitz.

"I don't wish to harm Mr. Checkynshaw," protested the barber, taking
the hand involuntarily, rather than because he was interested in the
act.

"Yo