I could only see a way of getting
this poor creature out of her trouble! But that cannot be done without
money."

He opened a drawer and pulled out about fifty francs.

"This is all my worldly wealth," said he sadly. "But how foolish I am!
For, of course, when poor Widow Rouleau has a wealthy young lady to take
an interest in her, she must have no further fear."

"I will speak to my father on the matter," answered Diana in a voice
which showed that she had but little hope of interesting him in the
widow's misfortunes.

Daumon's face fell.

"You will go to the Marquis de Laurebourg?" asked he. "Now, if you
would take my advice, I should say, go to some intimate friend,--to the
Marquis de Champdoce, for instance. I know," he went on, "that the Duke
does not make his son a very handsome allowance; but the young gentleman
will find no difficulty in raising whatever he may desire--as it will
not be long before he is of age--without counting his marriage, which
will put an enormous sum at his disposal even before that."

Diana fell in an instant into the trap the wily Daumon had laid for her.

"A marriage!" exclaimed she.

"I know very little about it; only I know that if the young man wishes
to marry without his father's consent, he will have to wait at least
five years."

"Five years?"

"Yes; the law requires that a young man who marries against his father's
desire should be twenty-five years of age."

This last stroke was so totally unexpected, that the girl lost her head.

"Impossible!" cried she. "Are you not making a mistake?"

The Counsellor gave a quiet smile of triumph.

"I am not mistaken," said he, and calmly pointed out in the code the
provision to which he had alluded. As Diana read the passage to which
his finger pointed, he watched her as a cat watches a mouse.

"After all, what does it matter to me?" remarked Diana, making an effort
to recover herself. "I will speak about this poor woman's case to my
father;" and, with her limbs bending under her, she left the room.

As Daumon returned from accompanying her to the door, the Counsellor
rubbed his hands.

"Things are getting decidedly warm," muttered he.

He felt that he must gain some further information, and this he could
not get from Norbert. It would be also as well, he thought, to tell the
sheriff to stay proceedings relative to the Widow Rouleau. By this means
he might secure another interview with Mademoiselle de Laurebourg, and
pe