I
had all but told her so; and finding myself alone with her father one
night after dinner, I boldly asked him for her hand. Somewhat to my
surprise,--for considering the difference in our years, we had become
very friendly,--he refused me point-blank. The first reason which he
gave staggered me: Irene was already engaged to a Roumanian nobleman,
who would be coming soon to claim her. But apart from that, he went
on, he would never have consented to the match on the score of our
different religions. I tried to argue with him, but it was useless; he
would not even discuss the matter. His daughter's hand was promised,
and his word was passed.

"'On the morrow I appealed to Irene, and here I met with more success.
She confessed that she loved me, and, to my surprise, she consented
at once when I proposed that she should run away with me. Our
arrangements were made in haste and secrecy. My yacht lay in the
harbour, and at midnight Irene stole down to the shore, where I met
her, and rowed her on board. A few minutes later we weighed anchor and
steamed away, with the rusty old guns from the castle firing useless
shots high over our heads.

"'I want to make my story as short as I can, so I will not attempt
to offer any excuses for my conduct, or to seek to palliate it in any
way. Irene had trusted herself to me, and I betrayed her trust. I did
not marry her. She did not leave me; she did not even openly upbraid
me; but nevertheless it hung like a dark cloud over her life.
By degrees, she became altered. She tried to drown her memory by
frivolity, by all manner of gaiety and excitement, and our life in
Paris afforded her many opportunities.

"'The old Count of Cruta made two efforts to rescue his daughter from
me. The first time he came alone; and before his righteous fury I was
for a moment abashed. "Give me back my daughter!" he thundered, with
his back to my closed door, and a pistol pointed to my head. I rang
the bell, and Irene came, dressed for the evening, and humming a light
opera tune. Then I saw to what depths of callousness I had dragged
her, and I shuddered. She listened to the old man's stormy eloquence,
and when he had finished his passionate appeal, she shrugged her
shoulders slightly. She was perfectly happy, she declared, and she
would die sooner than go back to that _triste_ Cruta. Had he had a
pleasant journey? she asked, and would he stay and dine? I saw her
father shudder, and the words seemed frozen u