anuel's purity of soul. Brought
up by his uncle to the practice of the sternest religious virtues, the
young man had an especial horror of falsehood: after giving his heart
and life to Marguerite Claes he now made her the sacrifice of his
conscience.

"Adieu, monsieur," said Balthazar, "I thought you had more confidence in
a man who looked upon you with the eyes of a father."

After exchanging a despairing look with Marguerite, Emmanuel was shown
out by Martha, who closed and fastened the street-door.

The moment the father and daughter were alone Claes said,--

"You love me, do you not?"

"Come to the point, father. You want this money: you cannot have it."

She began to pick up the coins; her father silently helped her to gather
them together and count the sum she had dropped; Marguerite allowed
him to do so without manifesting the least distrust. When two thousand
ducats were piled on the table, Balthazar said, with a desperate air,--

"Marguerite, I must have that money."

"If you take it, it will be robbery," she replied coldly. "Hear me,
father: better kill us at one blow than make us suffer a hundred deaths
a day. Let it now be seen which of us must yield."

"Do you mean to kill your father?"

"We avenge our mother," she said, pointing to the spot where Madame
Claes died.

"My daughter, if you knew the truth of the matter, you would not use
those words to me. Listen, and I will endeavor to exlain the great
problem--but no, you cannot comprehend me," he cried in accents of
despair. "Come, give me the money; believe for once in your father. Yes,
I know I caused your mother pain: I have dissipated--to use the word
of fools--my own fortune and injured yours; I know my children are
sacrificed for a thing you call madness; but my angel, my darling,
my love, my Marguerite, hear me! If I do not now succeed, I will give
myself up to you; I will obey you as you are bound to obey me; I will do
your will; you shall take charge of all my property; I will no longer be
the guardian of my children; I pledge myself to lay down my authority. I
swear by your mother's memory!" he cried, shedding tears.

Marguerite turned away her head, unable to bear the sight. Claes,
thinking she meant to yield, flung himself on his knees beside her.

"Marguerite, Marguerite! give it to me--give it!" he cried. "What are
sixty thousand francs against eternal remorse? See, I shall die, this
will kill me. Listen, my word is sacred. If I