rather than lose my friend for ever. I have but a few moments more. Will you come here again to-morrow night, at a quarter past eleven? I will be here at that moment; you must exercise the most scrupulous care to prevent suspicion that you have come here, Monsieur. You owe that to me."
She spoke these last words with the most solemn entreaty.
I vowed again and again, that I would die rather than permit the least rashness to endanger the secret which made all the interest and value of my life.
She was looking, I thought, more and more beautiful every moment. My enthusiasm expanded in proportion.
"You must come to-morrow night by a different route," she said; "and if you come again, we can change it once more. At the other side of the chateau there is a little churchyard, with a ruined chapel. The
