"I dare; for I wish to believe that, setting aside your monomania of addressing to me such incomprehensible reproaches, you are a man of good sense. We have reasons for mutually considering each other on certain points. Your reason is not very sound; I could thus have you placed under the protection of the laws, but it would be repugnant to my feelings to draw public attention towards you by a process which would rip up all the secrets of your household to the eyes of malignant curiosity. You must fear on your side that M. de Brévannes may learn that you are paying attentions to his wife. So let us remain as we are; I have no pretension to your heart; mine has never been yours--let us then act as free persons. If it is necessary for you to pretend absence, I will lend myself to the feint, and say you have quitted Paris. All I ask in return, sir, is permission to remain where I am for some time, and my desire is not, I think, exorbitant." M. de Hansfeld was amazed at Paula's assurance. Unfortunately for him, she possessed a secret which he trembled to have noised abroad. This consideration, more than the fear of the scandal of any processes, operated in placing him in his wife's power. It is impossible to depict his regrets at hearing that the princess was instructed as to the visits he paid to the engraver. Bertha's reputation was thus at the mercy of a woman who inspired Arnold with as much surprise as horror. The conduct of Madame de Brévannes was unquestionably irreproachable, but the least suspicion--the discovery of the prince's real name--would be sufficient to excite Pierre Raimond's mistrust, and prevent him from again receiving Arnold Schneider; with one word, the princess could conjure up this storm. We may imagine the prince's anger when he found himself under Paula's domination. She triumphed; she felt all the force of her position. To gain time, remain in Paris, see De Morville sometimes, write to him frequently, after having perhaps owned that he was not deceived as to the author of the mysterious correspondence to which we have referred. Such was the most ardent desire of Madame de Hansfeld, and, thanks to the secret she possessed, she hoped fully to realise this wish. She profited by the sort of stupor of her husband to add,-- "It is, then, understood, sir, you take your jewels. I give up all the settlement you had made upon me--my only wish being to live as separate and distinct from you as possible; and even more so if possible than during the past. This is the price of my silence. You came here, sir, with threats on your lips, but the characters are changed." "No!" exclaimed the prince, in a burst of violent indignation, "no, the woman who has thrice attempted my life dares not use such language, and threaten me--me, whose forbearance has been so great,--me, who, from a latent feeling of absurd consideration, have always recoiled from the terrible accusation which might compel you to confront a scaffold!"