y not to make any
mention, in this letter, of the money entrusted to your charge. This was
absurd because the sister, being aware of the deposit left in your
hands, would be sure to claim it; it was wiser to take the contrary
path, and make mention, as we did, of the money deposited with you; so
that, should any suspicions arise as to the manner in which the murdered
man met his death, you would be the very last on whom suspicion could
fall; for how could it be supposed for an instant that you would first
kill a man to obtain possession of the treasure placed under your care,
and then write to inform the sister of the fact of the money having been
lodged with you? And what was the consequence of this skilful suggestion
on my part? Every one believed the dead man had destroyed himself. Your
high reputation for probity enabled you successfully to deny the
circumstance of any such sum of money as that claimed ever having been
placed in your hands; and the general impression was, that the
unprincipled brother had first dissipated his sister's fortune, and then
committed suicide."

"But what does all this matter now, since the crime is discovered?"

"And who is to be thanked for its discovery? Is it my fault if my letter
has become a sort of two-edged sword? Why were you so weak, so silly, as
to surrender so formidable a weapon to--that infernal Cecily?"

"Silence!" exclaimed Jacques Ferrand, with a fearful expression of
countenance; "name her not!"

"With all my heart! I don't want to bring on an attack of epilepsy. You
see plainly enough that, as regards the common course of ordinary
justice, our mutual precautions were quite sufficient to ensure our
safety; but he who now holds us in his formidable power goes to work
differently; he believes that cutting off the heads of criminals is not
a sufficient reparation for the wrongs they have done. With the proofs
he has against us, he might give you and myself up to the laws of our
country; but what would be got by that? Merely a couple of dead bodies,
to help to enrich the churchyard."

"True, true! This prince, devil, or demon--whichever he is--requires
tears, groans, wringings of the heart, ere he is satisfied. And yet 'tis
strange he should work so much woe for me, who know him not, neither
have ever done him the least harm. Why, then, is he so bitter against
me?"

"In the first place, because he professes to sympathise with the
sufferings of other men, whom he calls