said nothing but the truth."

"In saying what?"

"That you were the--"

"Say the word, mistress of--"

"The Marquis de Lenoncourt, the present duke, a friend of mine," replied
the count.

"Now I can let you go to execution," she said, without seeming at all
agitated by the outspoken reply of the count, who was amazed at the real
or pretended indifference with which she heard his statement. "However,"
she added, laughing, "you have not wronged me more than that friend of
whom you suppose me to have been the--Fie! monsieur le comte; surely you
used to visit my father, the Duc de Verneuil? Yes? well then--"

Evidently considering Hulot one too many for the confidence she was
about to make, Mademoiselle de Verneuil motioned the count to her
side, and said a few words in her ear. Monsieur de Bauvan gave a low
ejaculation of surprise and looked with bewilderment at Marie, who
completed the effect of her words by leaning against the chimney in the
artless and innocent attitude of a child.

"Mademoiselle," cried the count, "I entreat your forgiveness, unworthy
as I am of it."

"I have nothing to forgive," she replied. "You have no more ground for
repentance than you had for the insolent supposition you proclaimed
at La Vivetiere. But this is a matter beyond your comprehension. Only,
remember this, monsieur le comte, the daughter of the Duc de Verneuil
has too generous a spirit not to take a lively interest in your fate."

"Even after I have insulted you?" said the count, with a sort of regret.

"Some are placed so high that insult cannot touch them. Monsieur le
comte,--I am one of them."

As she said the words, the girl assumed an air of pride and nobility
which impressed the prisoner and made the whole of this strange intrigue
much less clear to Hulot than the old soldier had thought it. He twirled
his moustache and looked uneasily at Mademoiselle de Verneuil, who made
him a sign, as if to say she was still carrying out her plan.

"Now," continued Marie, after a pause, "let us discuss these matters.
Francine, my dear, bring lights."

She adroitly led the conversation to the times which had now, within
a few short years, become the "ancien regime." She brought back
that period to the count's mind by the liveliness of her remarks and
sketches, and gave him so many opportunities to display his wit, by
cleverly throwing repartees in his way, that he ended by thinking he
had never been so charming; and that idea ha