from a window of that same hotel, however--keen
eyes, given to studying the world for their own ends, and which now
observed the figure and gait of Henry Denvil as he passed with a
certain speculative interest. These eyes belonged to a woman, plain,
no longer young, her sole attractions a soft voice and pleasing
manner; and a small, meagre man, wiry as a grasshopper, with gray
hair, a yellow skin, large nose, and a peevish mouth. In the faces of
both husband and wife was a hungry, pinched look. Years of poverty
sometimes sets such a seal on the human countenance.

This couple were Monsieur Jacques Robin and his wife, emigrants from
Heaven knows what past life in their native land, and now dwelling
drearily, it must be confessed, in the one tavern of Foundryville--a
mere hamlet back among the mountains of Pennsylvania. A year
previously Monsieur Robin had applied for the post of clerk in the
foundry, and obtaining the modest situation, madame had subsequently
appeared on the scene. If existence had been dull for Mrs. Denvil up
here among the hills, how much more so was it likely to prove for a
woman of Madame Robin's abilities! She took to studying Henry Denvil,
and her sky cleared. She knew every particular of his history and
family before he even saw her. When he did observe her, Madame Robin
made no impression on him beyond being genteel and modest in
appearance. Wait! A foreigner soured by poverty, endowed by nature
with artfulness, knowledge of humanity in its baser aspects, a certain
feline patience, may achieve much in a hamlet among the hills.

On this morning Monsieur Robin had run up from the foundry with a
letter for his wife. She read it eagerly.

"It is as I thought!" she exclaimed. "Gustave was always clever at
discovery. He has managed to communicate with Mrs. Denvil's own maid
at Rome, and learned enough. She will always make excuse to live in
Europe, the people flatter her, and she is already much talked about
as having fallen in love with the Roman Count Martellini."

"Well?" said the husband, doubtfully, irritably.

"I tell you I have them _all_ here in the palm of my hand," retorted
madame, with kindling excitement. "In another year I shall be
installed as housekeeper in the proprietor's house. You will not only
amuse him with cards in the evening, but gain his confidence. Chut!
There are secrets to be sold in business to rival houses if necessary.
He is a stupid man, without intimate friends, an