opposite to my house."

The Count swore a deep oath. "The rogues are very wily; but, my dear
fellow if you are ready, we will defy the storm together."

De Clinchain felt a cold tremor pass through his whole frame at this
proposal.

"Not I," said he; "do not try and persuade me. If you have come to this
decision, let me know at once, and I will go home and finish it all with
a pistol bullet."

He was just the sort of nervous, timorous man to do exactly as he said,
and would sooner have killed himself than endure all kinds of annoyance,
which might impair his digestion.

"Very well," answered his friend, with sullen resignation, "then I will
give in."

De Clinchain heaved a deep sigh of relief, for he, not knowing what had
passed before, had expected to have had a much more difficult task in
persuading his friend.

"You are acting like a reasonable man for once in your life," said he.

"You think so, because I give ear to your timorous advice. A thousand
curses on that idiotic habit of yours of putting on paper not only your
own secrets, but those of others."

But at this remark Clinchain mounted his hobby.

"Do not talk like that," said he. "Had you not committed the act, it
would not have appeared in my diary."

Chilled to the very bone, and quivering like an aspen leaf, Sabine had
listened to every word. The reality was even more dreadful than she
had dreamed of. There was a hidden sorrow, a crime in her father's past
life.

Again the Count spoke. "There is no use in recrimination. We cannot wipe
out the past, and must, therefore, submit. I promise you, on my honor,
that this day I will write to De Breulh, and tell him this marriage must
be given up."

These words threw the balm of peace and safety into De Clinchain's soul,
but the excess of joy was too much for him, and murmuring, "Too much
breakfast, and the shock of too violent an emotion," he sank back,
fainting, on a couch.

The Count de Mussidan was terrified, he pulled the bell furiously, and
the domestics rushed in, followed by the Countess. Restoratives were
applied, and in ten minutes the Baron opened one eye, and raised himself
on his elbow.

"I am better now," said he, with a faint smile. "It is weakness and
dizziness. I know what I ought to take--two spoonfuls of _eau des
carmes_ in a glass of sugar and water, with perfect repose of both mind
and body. Fortunately, my carriage is here. Pray, be prudent, Mussidan."
And, leaning upon th