of a victor. He was no longer covetous of wealth; he had prospered in
his own speculations, and was immensely rich; the hand of Leonide,
even without her heart, was now all he sought.

Madame Lioncourt received him with the easy assurance of a woman of
the world. He, on his part, advanced with the grace of a French
courtier.

"You came to remind me, sir," said the lady, "that I was unfortunate
at play last night."

"No, madame," said St. Eustache, "it is yourself who reminds me of it.
Pardon me, I am somewhat acquainted with your circumstances. I know
that you are no longer as rich as you are beautiful----"

"Sir!"

"Pardon the allusion, madam; I did not intend to insult you, but only
to suggest that the payment of money was not the only method of
cancelling a debt."

"I do not understand you, sir."

"Leonide, it is time that you did understand me!" cried St. Eustache,
impetuously. "It is time that I should throw off the mask and assert
my claim to your hand. I loved you once--I love you still. You are now
in my power. You cannot pay me the money you owe me; but you can make
me happy. Your hand----"

"Colonel St. Eustache," said the lady, coldly, as she rose and handed
him a pocket book, "be good enough to count those notes."

St. Eustache ran over them hastily.

"A thousand crowns, madame," he said.

"Then the debt is cancelled. Never renew the proposal of this morning.
Good day, sir."

With a haughty inclination of the head, she swept out of the room.

"Never renew the proposal of this morning!" said St. Eustache to
himself. "A thousand furies! It shall be renewed to-night. She will be
at the masquerade at the opera house. I have bribed her chambermaid,
and know her dress. She shall hear me plead my suit. I have dared too
much, perilled too much, to give her up so easily."

* * * * *

Amidst the gay crowd at the opera house was a light figure in a pink
domino, attended by one in black. Not to make a mystery of these
characters, they were Madame Lioncourt and her brother.

"Dear Alfred," said the lady, "I am afraid you impoverished yourself
to aid me in extricating myself from the toils of my persevering
suitor."

"Say nothing of it, Leonide," replied Alfred. "Your liberty is cheaply
purchased by the sacrifice."

"Lady, one word with you," said a low voice at her side.

She turned, and beheld a pilgrim with scrip, staff, and cross, and
closely masked.

"Twent