she exclaimed. "How does it concern you,
sir?"

"Deeply, deeply. These are matters of life and death."

"What do you mean?"

"Do not fear, your lover is safe. I could have killed him, but did not."

She became roused and agitated, and the thought flashed upon her that
the man might be a maniac.

"You would not," she said, trying to reason with him, "have injured
anyone so good and inoffensive as Monsieur de Repentigny?"

"Repentigny!" he cried. "It is because he bore that name that I tracked
him to Troyes. It was a Repentigny who slew my father, and blessed was
the light of the street lamp which showed me your lover was none of that
brood."

"You would have killed him, you say?"

"I was to do so, but it was by mistake."

"Who are you, then?" she inquired with the greatest earnestness.

"The Instrument of Vengeance. Do you hear it?" he continued, as if
listening. "The Voice of Vengeance in the distance, approaching,
approaching, calling, calling? Nearer, year by year, month by month, day
by day, hour by hour, moment by moment, until when it reaches my side I
shall slay my enemy. When he fled to the farthest Indies, there he found
me; now he is in Paris, and finds me here; wherever he goes he has found
me. He knows his fate. He knows that I am the Instrument of Vengeance,
that a day shall come that has not come, that this hand is the hand of
heaven, and this sword the sword of the Almighty."

"You say he slew your father?"

"Yes, thrust him through on the steps of our house--the House of the
Golden Dog."

"What was your father's name?"

"The Bourgeois Philibert, of Quebec."

"And who do you say killed him?"

"Repentigny."

"But not my Germain!" she exclaimed eagerly and positively.

"No, he is none of that spawn of evil."

"You will bear him no ill-will at any time then?" she pleaded.

"On the contrary, he is now on my side. They are his enemies too."

"_Who_ are his enemies?"

"The Repentignys; but fear not, Mademoiselle, he is far superior to
them. He shall triumph and prevail, for I shall keep him, and heaven has
appointed me its Instrument. Nothing they do can prevail against me and
our side."

"Why do you say they are his enemies? They are not always enemies who
carry the same name."

"Mademoiselle, I see you know not _this_ name," he said with grave
courtesy; "I see you know not _this_ name--this name of sorrow, this
name of blood--my father's blood--alas! alas! alas! alas!" and his