o the
door; they call me, and I must go down stairs."

He slipped out without waiting for an answer, and utterly unable to
guess why the old merchant should take such a sudden interest in the
lodger on the fifth floor.

"The rascal!" said Papa Ravinet to himself,--"the rascal!"

But he had found out what he wanted to know. He was alone, and he knew
he had no time to lose.

Quickly he drew the teakettle from the fire; and, pulling out Miss
Henrietta's two letters, he held the one that was addressed to M. Maxime
de Brevan over the steam of the boiling water. In a moment the mucilage
of the envelope was dissolved, and the letter could easily be opened
without showing in any way that it had ever been broken open. And now
the old man read the following words:--

"You are victorious, M. de Brevan. When you read this, I shall be no
longer alive.

"You may raise your head again; you are relieved of all fears. Daniel
can come back. I shall carry the secret of your infamy and your
cowardice into the grave with me.

"And yet, no!

"I can pardon you, having but a few moments longer to live; but God
will not pardon you. I--I shall be avenged. And, if it should require a
miracle, that miracle will be done, so as to inform that honorable man
who thought you were his friend, how and why the poor girl died whom he
had intrusted to your honor. H."

The old man was furious.

"The honor of Maxime de Brevan!" he growled with a voice of intense
hatred,--"the honor of Maxime de Brevan!"

But his terrible excitement did not keep him from manipulating the
other letter, addressed to Count Ville-Handry, in the same manner. The
operation was successful; and, without the slightest hesitation, he
read:--

"Dear father,--Broken down with anxiety, and faint from exhaustion, I
have waited till this morning for an answer to my humble letter, which I
had written to you on my knees.

"You have never replied to it; you are inexorable. I see I must die. I
shall die. Alas! I can hardly say I die willingly.

"I must appear very guilty in your eyes, father, that you should abandon
me thus to the hatred of Sarah Brandon and her people. And yet--ah! I
have suffered terribly. I have struggled hard before I could make up my
mind to leave your house,--the house where my mother had died, where I
had been so happy, and so tenderly beloved as a child by both of you.
Ah, if you but knew!

"And yet it was so little I asked of you!--barely enou