prey to the distrust which ostracism of this kind creates in the bosom of all who are subject to it. The world thought that by avoiding society Count Monte-Leone confessed the justice of its allegations. He became every day more attentive to the charming woman he adored, and who only waited the time when the proprieties of society would permit her to make him her husband. In her affection he found a consolation for all the external chagrin which annoyed him, for a mute terror had taken possession of the Carbonari since the occurrence of the many arrests, the motives of which were as yet wrapped in such impenetrable mystery. An event which was altogether unexpected made his position yet more complicated. He was one evening in one of the few houses to which he was yet invited. This was the house of M. L----, where the Marquis de Maulear had lost such immense sums to the Englishman who subsequently ruined him. M. L----, either more prudent or circumspect than others, had not listened to the reports which were circulated about Monte-Leone, and had invited him to his magnificent hotel in the Rue d'Antin. Monte-Leone had avoided the crowd, and walked down the long avenue of exotic flowers and camelias, then almost unknown in Paris. He came upon a boudoir where several men were speaking. The Count was about to go back, when his name struck on his ear. "Yes, gentlemen," said one of the speakers, in a most indignant tone, "you may well be astonished at my presence here, while my family is in tears, and my prospects blasted and made desperate. Only eight days since I came to Paris, and am here to find Count Monte-Leone, my challenge to whom, to deliver which I have sought him every where, should be as solemn as the vengeance I will exact." No sooner had the Count heard these words than he rushed into the boudoir, and stood face to face with the speaker, who was a young man of twenty-eight or thirty, wearing the uniform of the royal navy. His countenance was mild and noble, but bore an expression of perfect fury when he saw Monte-Leone. "Monsieur," said the Count, "you will not have to look farther for the person of whom you have dared to speak thus. I am thankful that I am here to spare you farther trouble in looking for me, though why you do so I cannot conceive." "He was listening to us," said the young man to his friends, in a tone of the deepest contempt. "Well, after all, that is right enough." "Chance," said the Count, resuming his _sang-froid_ and control over himself, which he always maintained in such emergencies, "led me within sound of your voice. You and I also should be glad that this is the case, for it seems to me a ball is a bad place for such an explanation as you seem to wish." "All places are good," said the naval officer, in a most insolent tone, "to tell you what I think of you. To repeat to you the epithet you have overheard, and which I am willing yet again to declare to all in these rooms."