"All goes well," said she to herself. "This miserable young girl, for whom Rudolph was so much interested--thanks to old One Eye, who has delivered me from her, is no longer to be feared. The skill of Rudolph has saved Madame d'Harville from the snare I placed for her, but it is impossible she can escape from the new plot I have contrived; she will then be forever lost to him. Then, sad, discouraged, isolated from all ties, will he not be in such a disposition of mind, that he will not desire anything better than to be the dupe of a falsehood, to which, with the aid of the notary, I can give every appearance of truth? And the notary will assist me for I have alarmed him. I can easily find a young orphan girl, interesting and poor who, instructed by me, will fill the part of our child, so bitterly regretted by Rudolph. I know the grandeur and generosity of his heart. Yes, to give a name and rank to her whom he believes to be his daughter, until then unhappy and abandoned, he will renew those ties which I had thought indissoluble. The predictions of my nurse will at length be realized, and I shall have this time surely attained the constant aim of my life--a crown." Hardly had Sarah left the mansion of the notary, than Charles Robert entered it, descending from an elegant cabriolet: he turned toward the private cabinet, as one having free admission. CHAPTER VIII. CHARLES ROBERT. The new-comer entered without any ceremony the notary's office, who was in a very thoughtful and splenetic mood, and who said to him very roughly, "I reserve the afternoon for my clients; when you wish to speak to me, come in the morning." "My dear scribbler" (this was one of the pleasantries of M. Robert), "it is concerning an important affair, in the first place, and then I wish to assure you myself concerning the fears that you might have." "What fears?" "Do you not know?" "What?" "My duel with the Duke de Lucenay. Are you ignorant of it?" "Yes." "Really?" "Why this duel?" "Something very serious, which required blood. Just imagine that, in the face of the whole embassy, M. de Lucenay allowed himself to say to me, to my face, that I had a cough, a complaint that must be very ridiculous." "You fought for this?" "And what the devil would you have one to fight for? Do you think that one could, in cold blood, hear one's self accused of having a cough? and before a charming woman, too; what is more, before a little marchioness, who, in brief--it could not be overlooked." "Certainly." "We soldiers, you understand, we are always on the look out. My seconds, the day before yesterday, had an interview with those of the duke. I had the question placed very plainly; a duel or a retraction." "A retraction of what?" "Of the cough, by Jove, which he allowed himself to attribute to me." The notary shrugged his shoulders.