"You lied, sir, I say. I am the wife, and now the widow, of Gaspard Levigne, but not a second wife. I am that 'plaything,' as you called her, the American, armed now with a knowledge of my rights and your treachery. You may well shiver and grow pale, sir; I am no longer the trembling child you terrified with brutality, but a woman who could buy your family with its mines thrown in, and not suffer because of the bad investment. From this room, upon the information you have given, I go to put my case in the hands of lawyers and establish my claim. It is not share and share in this country; my husband was the first born, and I am his heir!" "My God!" "It is too late to call upon God; He is on my side now! I came to you, sir, a woman to be loved, not a pauper. My father was more than a prince in his country. His slaves were numbered by the hundreds, and his lands would have sufficed for a dozen of your counts. I was crushed and my life was ruined, and my husband turned against me. But he repented--he repented. There was no war between Gaspard and me when he died." The man looked on and believed her. "Madame," he said, humbly, "has been wronged. For myself, it matters little, this new turn of affairs, but I have others." She had been looking beyond him into space. "And yet," she said, "it is the violin I would have. It was the violin that first spoke our love; it is a part of me; I would give my fortune to possess it again." He was looking anxiously at her, not comprehending this passion, but hoping much from it. "And how much will you give?" "I will give the mines and release all claims against you and your father's estate." "Alas, madame, I can give you the name of the holder of that violin but not the violin itself. You can make terms with him, and I will pay whatever price is demanded." "How will I know you are not deceiving me?" "Madame is harsh, but she will be convinced if she knows the handwriting of her--husband." "It is agreed," she said, struggling to keep down her excitement. Count Levigne reached the coveted bell and in a few minutes secured a notary, who drew up a formal agreement between the two parties. Cambia then gave an affidavit setting forth the death of Gaspard Levigne in proper form for use in court. Count Levigne took from his desk an envelope. "You have read my advertisement, madame. It was based on this: "Count L. Levigne, Breslau: When you receive this I will be dead. Make no effort to trace me; it will be useless; my present name is an assumed one. We have been enemies many years, but everything changes in the presence of death, and I do not begrudge you the pleasure of knowing that your brother is beyond trouble and want forever and the title is yours. The Cremona, to which I have clung even when honor was gone, I have given to a young American named Morgan, who has made my life happier in its winter than it was in its summer. "Gaspard Levigne."