"Yes. It was a presumptuous thing to do, perhaps; but the end justified
the means in this instance. I am glad I did listen, because it has
enabled me to say to you, Take courage, Prosper: Mlle. Madeleine loves
you; she has never ceased to love you."

Like a dying man who eagerly listens to deceitful promises of recovery,
although he feels himself sinking into the grave, did Prosper feel his
sad heart cheered by M. Verduret's assertion.

"Oh," he murmured, suddenly calmed, "if only I could hope!"

"Rely upon me, I am not mistaken. Ah, I could see the torture endured by
this generous girl, while she struggled between her love, and what she
believed to be her duty. Were you not convinced of her love when she
bade you farewell?"

"She loves me, she is free, and yet she shuns me."

"No, she is not free! In breaking off her engagement with you, she
was governed by some powerful, irrepressible event. She is sacrificing
herself--for whom? We shall soon know; and the secret of her
self-sacrifice will discover to us the secret of her plot against you."

As M. Verduret spoke, Prosper felt all his resolutions of revolt slowly
melting away, and their place taken by confidence and hope.

"If what you say were true!" he mournfully said.

"Foolish young man! Why do you persist in obstinately shutting your eyes
to the proof I place before you? Can you not see that Mlle. Madeleine
knows who the thief is? Yes, you need not look so shocked; she knows the
thief, but no human power can tear it from her. She sacrifices you, but
then she almost has the right, since she first sacrificed herself."

Prosper was almost convinced; and it nearly broke his heart to leave
this little parlor where he had seen Madeleine.

"Alas!" he said, pressing M. Verduret's hand, "you must think me a
ridiculous fool! but you don't know how I suffer."

The man with the red whiskers sadly shook his head, and his voice
sounded very unsteady as he replied, in a low tone:

"What you suffer, I have suffered. Like you, I loved, not a pure, noble
girl, yet a girl fair to look upon. For three years I was at her feet,
a slave to her every whim; when, one day she suddenly deserted me who
adored her, to throw herself in the arms of a man who despised her.
Then, like you, I wished to die. Neither threats nor entreaties could
induce her to return to me. Passion never reasons, and she loved my
rival."

"And did you know this rival?"

"I knew him."

"And you did n