is life. In about an hour he would need all his courage and persuasion
to combat and conquer one of the greatest obstacles man can meet with in
his career--the will of an energetic and passionate woman. Not long
before, Monte-Leone had received the following note:

"For fifteen days I have not seen you. I do not know why you avoid me. I
had rather die than continue to live thus. I wish to hear my fate from
your own lips. For eight days _he_ will be away. Come--if you refuse
me--if you are not with me when midnight comes, it will be the proof of
an eternal adieu, and I will cease to live."

The Count waited with impatience for the period of this terrible
interview. He knew the feeling which had inspired this note, how full of
irrepressible indignation her mind was, and that it would shrink from no
danger and no excess. He sought in vain to shake off Taddeo, but since
the scene in Verneuil street, when the wretch set to watch Monte-Leone
had been overheard by Rovero, the young man had been almost
heart-broken. On this evening, though, he did not lose sight of Taddeo
for an instant. The Count saw with terror that the time was drawing
near, yet he could not leave the room. Taking advantage of a moment when
Taddeo was not by, the Count was about to leave, when a noise was heard
in the anteroom. The door was thrown open, and a man with a white scarf
advanced amid the company. There was no possibility of mistake, for
justice, herself, as the Prince de Maulear had told his son, had come
into the gaming-house, disguised as a Commissary of Police. All who were
present felt the greatest uneasiness--they were about to be arrested on
the double charge of _Carbonarism_ and forbidden play. Was it to the
gamesters or to the _Carbonari_ that the Commissary paid his visit? All
were excited, though from different motives.

"Madame," said the Commissary, exhibiting his warrant to Madame
Bruneval, who, like the commander of a besieged place, sought to parley
with the enemy; "you are the widow of Colonel de Bruneval."

"I am, sir," said the German lady, whose color became greater than ever,
"and cannot conceive why I should be thus insulted. I am not, I suppose,
under the surveillance of the police."

"Excuse me, madame," said the Commissary, "your house has long been
pointed out to us, as the rendezvous of many Buonapartists"--the
Buonapartists became alarmed--"and," continued the Commissary, "as a
place where forbidden games are played