"That is all," he said, still in the same slow, half-dreamy way. "I heard no more. When I came to, the Vines were helping me, and--" "Louise?" "Louise was gone." "Mr Leslie," said Madelaine gently, as in a gentle, sympathetic way she laid her hand upon his arm. "You seem to have been a good deal hurt. I will not press you to speak. I'm afraid you hardly know what you say. This cannot be true." "Would to Heaven it were not!" he cried passionately. "You think I am wandering. No, no, no; I wish I could convince myself that it was. She is gone--gone?" "Gone? Louise gone? It cannot be." "Yes," he said bitterly; "it is true. I suppose when a man once gets a strong hold upon a woman's heart she is ready to be his slave, and obey him to the end. I don't know. I never won a woman's love." "His slave--obey--but who--who is this man?" "Monsieur de Ligny, I suppose. The French nobleman." Madelaine made a gesticulation with her hands, as if throwing the idea aside. "No, no, no," she said impatiently. "It is impossible, de Ligny--de Ligny? You mean that Louise Vine, my dear friend, my sister, was under the influence of some French gentleman unknown to me?" "Unknown to her father too," said Leslie bitterly, "for he reviled me when I told him." "I cannot do that," said Madelaine firmly; "but I tell you it is not true." "As you will," he said coldly; "but I saw her at his knees last night." "De Ligny--a French gentleman?" "Yes." "I tell you it is impossible." "But she has gone," said Leslie coldly. "Gone? I cannot believe it. Mr Vine? He knows where?" Leslie shook his head mournfully. "Some secret love," he said. "Yes; Louise did nurture a secret love," said Madelaine scornfully, "and for a man unworthy of her." "Poor girl!" "Yes; poor girl! Shame upon you, Duncan Leslie! She may be gone for some good reason, but it is not as you say and think. Louise, my sister, my poor suffering friend, carry on a clandestine intrigue with some French gentleman? It is not true." "You forget her aunt--the influence she has had upon the poor girl." "I forget everything but the fact that Louise loved you, Duncan Leslie, with all her heart." "No, no," he cried with an angry start. "I tell you it is true," cried Madelaine. "De Ligny?--a French nobleman? Absurd! A fable invented by that poor old half-crazy woman to irritate you and scare you away." "I might have thought so once, but after what I saw last night--" "A jealous man surrounds all he sees with a glamour of his own," cried Madelaine. "Oh where is your reason? How could you be so ready to believe it of the truest, sweetest girl that ever lived!" "But--" "Don't speak to me," cried Madelaine, angrily. "You know what that old woman is with her wild ideas about birth and position. Louise, deceive her father--cheat me--elope! Duncan Leslie, I did not think you could be so weak." "I will not fight against your reproaches," he said, coldly.