"My own desk, which he knew well, is similarly arranged. It was given me by my grandfather, who had it made for me after the model of his." "Ah, indeed! Go on." Raoul clinched his hands convulsively. "Rodenberg, do not goad me too far. You see in me a desperate man. You must believe me, you must disabuse my grandfather of his terrible suspicion, or I never would answer questions put in such a tone and with such an air. I came home last night late and found the doors, which are always locked between my rooms and the general's, open. Since we alone have the keys opening them, my suspicions were awakened. I went to the study, and found the man whom I had called my friend----" "At his work," Michael concluded the sentence. "Apparently you did not interrupt it, since he found time to complete the robbery." "He had already completed it. As I stood in utter dismay, crushed by the frightful discovery, we heard the door of the antechamber open, and approaching footsteps. In mortal terror Henri clasped my arm and conjured me to save him. Discovery would be his ruin, as I knew, and I hurried to the door and prevented the servant's entrance by telling him of my presence. When the man had gone and I turned round, Clermont had escaped." "And you did not pursue him and wrest his booty from him? You did not tell the general what had happened?" Raoul's eyes were downcast, and he replied, scarcely audibly, "He was my nearest friend, the brother of the woman whom I loved to madness, and whom I then believed guiltless. The next morning I hurried to them; they were gone, and an hour afterwards I made a terrible discovery; then, reckless of all other considerations, I set out to pursue them." He paused as if exhausted. Michael had listened with apparent composure, except for a slight contemptuous quiver of the lip. Now he stood erect. "Have you finished? My patience is at an end; I did not come here to listen to fanciful tales. Give me the papers, or I shall be forced to resort to violence." "You do not believe me?" exclaimed Raoul. "You still do not believe me?" "No, I do not believe one word of this tissue of falsehood. For the last time, then, give me the papers, or by the eternal God I will obey the order which my grandfather gave me when I left him,--'Wrest the papers from him, living or--dead!'" A shiver ran through Raoul's frame. Here it was again,--the strange resemblance. He knew those flashing eyes, that iron tone; he seemed to see his grandfather's self before him pronouncing upon him sentence of death. "Fulfil your orders, then!" he said, dully; "and then you will know that the dead did not lie."