r liberty, entered the
gallery, and, opening a small door at the end of it, found herself at
once in the garden.

In the midst of all the strange events which had crowded one on the
other, an indefinable sentiment of dread had taken possession of
Valentine's mind. She expected every moment that she should see Morrel
appear, pale and trembling, to forbid the signing of the contract, like
the Laird of Ravenswood in "The Bride of Lammermoor." It was high time
for her to make her appearance at the gate, for Maximilian had long
awaited her coming. He had half guessed what was going on when he saw
Franz quit the cemetery with M. de Villefort. He followed M. d'Epinay,
saw him enter, afterwards go out, and then re-enter with Albert and
Chateau-Renaud. He had no longer any doubts as to the nature of the
conference; he therefore quickly went to the gate in the clover-patch,
prepared to hear the result of the proceedings, and very certain that
Valentine would hasten to him the first moment she should be set at
liberty. He was not mistaken; peering through the crevices of the wooden
partition, he soon discovered the young girl, who cast aside all her
usual precautions and walked at once to the barrier. The first glance
which Maximilian directed towards her entirely reassured him, and the
first words she spoke made his heart bound with delight.

"We are saved!" said Valentine. "Saved?" repeated Morrel, not being able
to conceive such intense happiness; "by whom?"

"By my grandfather. Oh, Morrel, pray love him for all his goodness to
us!" Morrel swore to love him with all his soul; and at that moment he
could safely promise to do so, for he felt as though it were not enough
to love him merely as a friend or even as a father. "But tell me,
Valentine, how has it all been effected? What strange means has he used
to compass this blessed end?"

Valentine was on the point of relating all that had passed, but she
suddenly remembered that in doing so she must reveal a terrible secret
which concerned others as well as her grandfather, and she said, "At
some future time I will tell you all about it."

"But when will that be?"

"When I am your wife."

The conversation had now turned upon a topic so pleasing to Morrel,
that he was ready to accede to anything that Valentine thought fit to
propose, and he likewise felt that a piece of intelligence such as he
just heard ought to be more than sufficient to content him for one day.
However,