e paper before Sanselme, he said, "You will
write just what I say, or I will send this!"

The two lines commenced thus: "She who bears the name of Jane Zeld,
is--"

Sanselme read no more. With a cry of rage he sprang at Benedetto, who
thrust him back fiercely.

"No more of this nonsense!" he said. "Either you write, or I do, and my
words shall appear in three of the most prominent Parisian journals."

Sanselme, with haggard eyes, did not seem to hear. Then suddenly he
seized the pen and wrote what Benedetto required.

"If I give you this paper," he said, hoarsely, "will you swear by--good
heavens! He believes in nothing! What will he swear by?"

"My dear fellow, I have not the smallest interest in troubling your
repose. This is better than any oath," said Benedetto.

Sanselme made no further resistance.

Benedetto looked at the paper. "The fool has signed his own name!" he
said to himself. "But it may be better, after all!" And in another
moment Benedetto vanished through the window.

Sanselme sat motionless for some time, then his wandering eyes fell on
the bank-notes. He snatched them up.

"We must fly!" he said aloud. "He knows all, and there is not a moment
to lose. Jane--my Jane! Yes, she will consent, I am sure. We will take
the seven o'clock train to Havre, and then will go to America. There she
will lead a new life!" He looked around the room.

"My baggage," he said to himself, "will not be much of a hindrance; but
Jane must be aroused at once. What shall I say to her? What reason shall
I give? Pshaw! she will require none. Besides, there is nothing to keep
us in Paris."

With infinite caution he opened the door and stole down the stairs,
feeling his way along the corridor in the darkness, until he reached
Jane's door, which he found open.

Sanselme was aghast. The chamber was empty.

Sanselme, with a frightful imprecation, rushed down stairs; the street
door was open. Half mad, Sanselme went out into the street.

CHAPTER LI.

A SHOT FROM A REVOLVER.

Goutran and Esperance went out together from the little hotel in the
avenue Montaugne. Slowly and without talking they walked on side by
side. The moon had gone down; it was one of those soft, starry nights
which are so delicious. The Champs Elysees was deserted.

Suddenly Goutran exclaimed, "It is best to go on with it, I am sure!"

Esperance looked at his friend in surprise. "What are you saying?" he
asked.

Goutran laughed. "I w