"You might offer me all the treasures of the Indies, and I would still say to you: 'You are wasting your time; I do not love you; I shall never love you.'" "Then it must be that mysterious Carvajal whom you love. But, by death! if I ever meet him!" "Ah, me! I would like right well to meet him!" As she said these words, Miretta darted away so swiftly that she soon disappeared from the eyes of Passedix, who pulled his cap over his forehead, muttering angrily: "Mordioux! she defies me still. I must forget her! I must show my dignity! Let us get tipsy!" Miretta hurried back to the Hôtel de Santoval; she remembered how precipitately she had left the house, and she feared that her mistress would be displeased with her for absenting herself at a time when she required her services; so that Miretta was almost trembling when she returned to the house. She had no sooner entered than a servant informed her that her mistress wished to see her. Valentine was alone in her bedroom; her expression was not at all stern, but it denoted profound reflection. When she saw Miretta, she motioned to her to lock all the doors with care, then beckoned her to a seat on a stool by her side. Miretta walked toward her and began to falter some words of apology; but Valentine placed a finger on her lips and again pointed to the stool. The girl seated herself, speechless with surprise, and waited anxiously to hear what her mistress could have to say to her that demanded so much mystery. Valentine fastened her great velvety dark-gray eyes on those of her maid, who looked down at the floor; then she said to her, taking care to speak low: "Miretta, swear that you will answer frankly the question I am about to ask you; swear that you will not lie to me!" The girl looked up, glanced at her mistress, and, seeing nothing in her expression to indicate anger, answered: "I swear, madame." "That is well; now, listen to me. I have just discovered a secret of great importance to you, which we must not let anybody else discover! I know who your lover is--the man whom you love." "You know, madame?" "Yes, I tell you; and you are going to tell me if I am mistaken. The man whom you have not seen for so long a time, the man for whose sake you came to France, of whom you are constantly thinking, and who causes you so much anxiety--is Giovanni!" "O madame! you think----" "It is Giovanni! Contradict me if you dare!--Have no fear of me, Miretta; you should know me well. But remember your oath: the man you love is Giovanni, is he not? Answer--answer!" Miretta fell on her knees before her mistress, clasping her hands, and murmured at last: "Yes, madame, yes--it is Giovanni who is my lover.--Oh! forgive me!" "Rise, rise, my child! Your frankness makes me more fond of you. Do you think, pray, that I asked you for your secret with the intention of reproaching you? You loved this Giovanni, doubtless, before he became a brigand?" "Oh! yes, madame."