If you have not met them, they must have left either by the window
or through the green panel-door, which opens on a passage by which one
can reach the Ruelle."

Bertram then compelled the lady to open the panel-door, and after
ordering his men to remain for one hour in the house, and to suffer no
one to enter or leave it, he accompanied Develour down to the street.
When they reached the pavement, they saw a carriage just turn the Rue
des Trois Labres, and a few loiterers looking after it. Bertram inquired
of one of them if that carriage had passed the house? He replied that it
had halted there for more than an hour; but that, a few minutes ago, two
gentlemen came out with a lady and entered the carriage; that the elder
of the two had shown a card to the coachman, and told him to drive
_ventre a terre_ to the Rue des Terres Fortes.

When Develour heard this, he said, hurriedly, to Bertram--

"I must leave you; my work here is accomplished; though I have but half
succeeded. I must now fulfil another duty. Before morning dawns, I shall
know where Louise is. Farewell, Bertram, but not for ever. When we meet
again, I shall be better able to thank you."

"Nay, nay, we may meet again before to-morrow night. Fear not; all is
well which Arabacca counsels; all ends well which he undertakes."

With these words, he turned and went into the house, and Develour
hastened to the Rue de Burgoigne.

(To be continued.)

A SPRING CAROL.

BY MRS. A. A. BARNES.

BRIGHT, balmy Spring! I greet thee now
With a hounding pulse and joyous brow;
Thy dewy breath, pure, soft, and bland,
Seems like a dream of a fairy land;
And open I throw the casement wide,
To inhale the dewy, delicious tide:
The fragrance soft of the budding trees
Is borne to me on the morning breeze;
The emerald turf is gemmed with dew,
That gleams like stars in the vault of blue;
The clouds are tinged with a rosy stain,
As the rising sun illumes the plain.
The early flowers, in their brightest bloom,
Have waked from their dark and cheerless tomb:
Sweet flowers! a halo and grace ye fling
Over the brow of the smiling spring;
Ye gladden the hearts in cottage homes
As freely as those in stateliest domes.
And the birds, the truants I watched for long,
Ar