"Tell him to go away," said Harry sharply, speaking in French to disguise his voice. "Mr Leslie, pray, pray go. This is a private visit. I beg you will go." "Private enough," said Leslie, bitterly; "and once more I say you may think I have no right to interfere. I give up all claims that I might have thought I had upon you, but as your father's friend I will not stand calmly by and see wrong done his child. Speak out, sir; who are you? Let's hear your name, if you are ashamed to show your face." "Tell him to go away," said Harry again. Leslie writhed, for Aunt Marguerite's hints about the French gentleman of good descent came up now as if to sting him. This man he felt, in his blind rage, was the noble suitor who in his nobility stooped to come in the darkness to try and persuade a weak girl to leave her home; and as he thought this it was all he could do, hot-blooded, madly jealous and excited, to keep from flinging himself upon the supposed rival, the unworthy lover of the woman he had worshipped with all the strength of a man's first passion. "I can't talk to him in his wretched tongue," cried Leslie, fiercely; "but I understand his meaning. Perhaps he may comprehend mine. No. I shall not go. I shall not leave this room till Mr Vine returns. He can answer to your father, or I will, if I have done wrong." "Mr Leslie!" cried Louise, "You don't know what you are doing--what you say. Pray--pray go." "When my old friend George Vine tells me I have done wrong, and I have seen you safe in his care." "No, no. Go now, now!" cried Louise. Leslie drew a deep breath and his heart beat heavily in the agony and despair he felt. She loved this man, this contemptible wretch who had gained such ascendency over her that she was pleading in his behalf, and trying to screen him from her father's anger. "Mr Leslie. Do you hear me?" she cried, taking courage now in her despair and dread lest her father should return. "Yes," he said coldly. "I hear you, Miss Vine; and it would be better for you to retire and leave this man with me." "No, no," she cried excitedly. "Mr Leslie! You are intruding here. This is a liberty. I desire you to go." "When Mr Vine comes back," said Leslie sternly. "If I have done wrong then no apology shall be too humble for me to speak. But till he comes I stay. I have heard too much. I may have been mad in indulging in those vain hopes, but if that is all dead there still remains too much honour and respect for the woman I knew in happier times for me to stand by and let her wrong herself by accompanying this man." "Mr Leslie, you are mistaken." "I am not." "Indeed--indeed!" "Prove it then," he cried, in stern judicial tones. "I am open to conviction. You love this man?" Louise was silent. "He was begging you to accompany him in flight." Louise uttered a low wail. "Hah!" ejaculated Leslie, "I am right." "No, no; it is all a misapprehension," cried Louise, excitedly. "Mr Leslie, this--"