trast to the
dark, splendid style of the lovely brunette, Valerie de la Motte; but he
was only a younger son, with no hope or prospect of succession to his
father's title or estates.

He did not dare openly to seek the hand of Mademoiselle de la Motte, for
he knew that to do so would only be to have himself banished forever from
her presence, by her ambitious father; but, loving her with all the
passion of his heart, he sought secretly to win her love, and he
succeeded.

It would seem strange that the carefully shielded daughter of the French
minister should have been exposed to courtship by the young captain of
the Royal Guards; but love is fertile in devices, and full of expedients,
and "laughs," not only "at locksmiths," but at all other obstacles to its
success.

The willful young pair loved each other ardently from the first evening
of their meeting, and they could not endure to think of such a
possibility as their separation. They found many opportunities, even in
public, of carrying on their secret courtship. In the swimming turn of
the waltz, hands clasped hands with more impassioned earnestness than the
formula of the round dance required: in the casual meetings in the
fashionable promenades of the beautiful summer gardens in Aptekarskoi
Island--

"Eyes looked love to eyes that spake again.
And all went merry as a marriage bell,"

so long as they could see each other every day.

As the summer passed, the young captain, grown more confident, wrote
ardent love letters to his lady, which were surreptitiously slipped into
her hands at casual meetings, or conveyed to her by means of bribed
domestics; and these the willful beauty answered in the same spirit,
as opportunity was offered her by the same means. But--

"A change came o'er the spirit of their dream."

The French minister was recalled home by his sovereign, and only awaited
the arrival of his successor to take an official leave of the Czar.

About this time a letter from Volaski to Valerie was sent by the
captain's faithful valet, and put in the hands of the lady's confidential
maid, who secretly conveyed it to her mistress. This letter, which was
fiery enough to have set any ordinary post-bag in a blaze, declared,
among other matters, that the lady's answer would decide the writer's
fate, for life or for death.

Mademoiselle de la Motte sat down and wrote a reply which she sent by her
confidential maid, who placed it in the hands of the captai