se sentiments which tend to elevate us. Before knowing you I
passed through life knowing little, and caring little, of what was right
or what was wrong."

Tears were now pouring down her cheeks.

"I am not the daughter," she sobbed, "I am not the daughter, I am the
friend, of Monsieur de Laisangy!"

A pained exclamation broke from Goutran's breast, and he hid his face in
his hands. He felt as if a dagger had struck him in the heart.

"Yes," continued Carmen, with a smile of contempt, "this old man, for
reasons of his own, insisted on my bearing his name. Do not condemn me
too greatly," she continued, "I was not sixteen when I fell into the
trap that this man laid for me. Think of it!"

"The miserable scoundrel!"

"Yes, he ruined me, body and soul! All the finer instincts of my nature
he sneered at. He taught me to despise everything--himself, myself! For
five long years I endured this martyrdom. When we reached Paris, he
added another wrong to those he had already inflicted on me. He
compelled me to profane the sacred name of father, and yet I did not
realize my shame until the day I met you. I sat to you for my portrait,
and as you talked I felt a whole new world opening before me. I knew
then, for the first time, that I was unworthy of the love of an honest
man. Ah! Goutran, how I have suffered in loving you!"

And the poor girl sank on her knees, a very Magdalen.

Goutran laid his hand on her head.

"Carmen, these avowals prove to me that I was not wrong in thinking you
the best and the most adorable woman in the world!"

"You do not loathe me, then?"

"Have I any right to be your judge? I have certainly received a sad
shock."

He lifted her to a chair.

"If you have made me this terrible confidence it is because you wish to
give me a proof of your great confidence in me. I shall be worthy of
it, be sure of that. And now, tell me what you wish."

Carmen lifted her sad eyes to his.

"How good you are!" she said, quietly. "But you are right. Now you will
not doubt my motives nor me?"

"I swear that I will believe every syllable you utter!"

Carmen, after a few moments' consideration, said:

"You are very fond of this young Monte-Cristo?"

"Certainly I am. He is one of the noblest fellows I ever met. But why do
you speak of him?"

"Because it was to speak of him that I summoned you here to-night. Your
friend, Goutran, is in great danger, as are you--and myself, too."

"Danger!"

"We must fin