to give them to Miss Brandon,--a hundred only, to enable him to escape
to Belgium.

"They refused. And when he begged and prayed, falling on his knees
before Miss Sarah, Sir Thorn seized him by the shoulders, and turned him
out of the house."

Maxime, overcome by his intense excitement, fell into an easy-chair,
and remained there for a considerable time, his eyes fixed, his brow
darkened, repenting himself, no doubt, of his candor, his wrath, and his
forgetfulness of all he owed to himself and to others.

But, when he rose again, his rare strength of will enabled him to assume
his usual phlegmatic manner; and he continued in a mocking tone,--

"I see in your face, Daniel, that you think the story is monstrous,
improbable, almost impossible. Nevertheless, four years ago, it was
believed all over Paris, and set off by a number of hideous details
which I will spare you. If you care to look at the papers of that year,
you will find it everywhere. But four years are four centuries in Paris.
To say nothing of the many similar stories that have happened since."

Daniel said nothing, he only bowed his head sadly. He felt a kind of
painful emotion, such as he had never before experienced in his life.

"It is not so much the story itself," he said at last, "that overcomes
me so completely. What I cannot comprehend is, how this woman could
refuse the man whose accomplice she had been the small pittance he
required in order to evade justice, and to escape to Belgium."

"Nevertheless, that was so," repeated M. de Brevan; and then he added
emphatically, "at least, they say so."

Daniel did not notice this attempt to become more cautious again. He
continued pensively,--

"Is it not very improbable that Miss Brandon should not have been
afraid to exasperate the unfortunate man, and to drive him to desperate
measures? In his furious rage, he might have left the house, rushed to a
police-officer, and confessed to him every thing, laying the evidence he
had in his hands before a magistrate, and"--

"You say," replied Brevan, interrupting him with a dry, sardonic laugh,
"precisely what all the advocates of the fair American said at that
time. But I tell you, that her peculiarity is exactly the daring with
which she ventures upon the most dangerous steps. She does not pretend
to avoid difficulties; she crushes them. Her prudence consists in
carrying imprudence to the farthest limits."

"But"--

"You ought to credit her, besid