he added, "I was in hopes of
seeing you, but not to have the happiness of speaking to you. I
had written--"

He drew from his pocket a large envelope, and, handing it to Mlle.
Gilberte,

"Here is the letter," he continued, "which I intended for you. It
contains another, which I beg you to preserve carefully, and not to
open unless I do not return. I leave you in Paris a devoted friend,
the Count de Villegre. Whatever may happen to you, apply to him
with all confidence, as you would to myself."

Mlle. Gilberte, staggering, leaned against the wall.

"When do you expect to leave?" she inquired.

"This very night. Communications may be cut off at any moment."

Admirable in her sorrow, but also full of energy, the poor girl
looked up, and held out her hand to him.

"Go then," she said, "O my only friend! go, since honor commands.
But do not forget that it is not your life alone that you are going
to risk."

And, fearing to burst into sobs, she fled, and reached the Rue St.
Gilles a few moments before her father, who had gone out in quest
of news.

Those he brought home were of the most sinister kind.

Like the rising tide, the Prussians spread and advanced, slowly,
but steadily. Their marches were numbered; and the day and hour
could be named when their flood would come and strike the walls
of Paris.

And so, at all the railroad stations, there was a prodigious rush
of people who wished to leave at any cost, in any way, in the
baggage-car if needs be, and who certainly were not, like Marius,
rushing to meet the enemy.

One after another, M. Favoral had seen nearly every one he knew
take flight.

The Baron and Baroness de Thaller and their daughter had gone to
Switzerland; M. Costeclar was traveling in Belgium; the elder
Jottras was in England, buying guns and cartridge; and if the
younger Jottras, with M. Saint Pavin of "The Financial Pilot,"
remained in Paris, it was because, through the gallant influence
of a lady whose name was not mentioned, they had obtained some
valuable contracts from the government.

The perplexities of the cashier of the Mutual Credit were great.
The day that the Baron and the Baroness de Thaller had left,

"Pack up our trunks," he ordered his wife. "The bourse is going
to close; and the Mutual Credit can very well get along without me."

But the next day he became undecided again. What Mlle. Gilberte
thought she could guess, was, that he was dying to start alone, and