"Do what you will," said Martiniere, "I shall not stir from this place. Fulfil the wicked intentions for which you came; though, remember, you and your accomplices will one day die for them a shameful death on the scaffold."—"Ha, truly," cried the young man in a frightful tone, "you are in the right, Martiniere!—the fate that awaits me is, indeed, dark and disgraceful; but, as to my accomplice, he remains yet safe, and unsuspected." With these words, casting terrific glances on the poor girl, he drew out the stiletto. "Heaven have mercy!" cried she, expecting that it was to be plunged into her heart; but, at that moment, the clang of arms was heard in the street, and the trampling of horses. "The Marechaussee—Marechaussee!—Help—help!"—screamed la Martiniere. "Cruel woman," said the stranger, "thou art resolved on my utter destruction. Now, all is over, and the opportunity lost. But, take this, and give it to your lady to-night, if possible, or to-morrow morning, if you will; for to me, indeed, the time is now indifferent." In speaking these words, rather in a low voice, the man had taken the candlestick from la Martiniere, extinguished the light, and forced a small casket into her hands. "On your hopes of salvation," said he, "I conjure you, Martiniere, that you will deliver this box to your lady." Then he abruptly threw away the candlestick, turned round, and sprang out at the door. Martiniere, meanwhile, was so terrified, not knowing what he intended to do, that she had fallen, half fainting, on the floor. With difficulty she raised herself, and, in the dark, groped her way back to the room, where, quite confused and exhausted, she sank into her arm-chair. From this stupor she was suddenly awoke, by the harsh creaking noise made by turning the key, which, in her fright, she had left in the lock of the house door. Afterwards she heard it firmly closed, and cautious steps, as of some one groping the way to her chamber. Her consternation was now greater than ever; and she sat motionless, expecting some horrible event, till the door opened, and by the glimmer of her night-lamp, she rec-
