"Alas! alas! my good friend," I said, "I can prove no such thing. I know the estate can be sold, for my own father sold it. It is not hereditary, and depends upon the baron's will. There is only one means, and that must be tried at once. Louise must fly with me. Under such circumstances, it is quite justifiable to do so." "Before you adopt any determination, let us consider for a moment, Monsieur de Cerons," replied the merchant, in his cool, calculating tone: "What would you grant that man who would first prove to you that the lordship of De Cerons cannot be sold in perpetuity, and, in the second place, point out a way by which you may perhaps fly with the lady that you love, but fly with her as your wife, and with her father's own consent?" "What would I give?" I exclaimed. "What would I not give, you should say, my good friend." "Well, then, Monsieur de Cerons," said the merchant, somewhat more rapidly than was his wont, "I must be quick with my conditions, for I hear Martin's steps on the stairs. First, you shall forgive, fully and entirely, a girl's curiosity; the next is a harder task--you shall take a piece of advice without asking a question; the third, you shall put yourself entirely under my guidance for the next three days." "Willingly!" I said, "Willingly!" But, as I was speaking, and Martin Vern was turning to his brother to witness our contract, his nephew entered the room with Solomon Ahar himself and Miriam, now become a lovely woman. "Oh, false merchant!" cried the girl, addressing Martin Vern, "You have told him! I see it in his face! You have told him!" "No, indeed, Miriam," replied the merchant, "I have told him nothing." Miriam was about to proceed, it seemed, when her father bustled forward, saying, "A truce to nonsense, girl! Let us do business first. Seigneur de Cerons, here is the dagger which is your property, on account of which you are in my debt the sum of--" and he was taking out his inkhorn to calculate, when Martin Vern motioned him to be silent, saying, "Hold me responsible, my good brother, for capital and interest, according to law and justice. We have other matters now in hand. Examine your dagger well, Monsieur de Cerons. Do you see nothing to attract you farther?" "I know," I replied, "That the hilt is hollow. My poor friend Stuart assured me that it was so, and that there were papers in it. I cannot unfasten it, however," I added, trying to do so impatiently. "We had better have a hammer brought." "Less violent means will do," replied Martin Vern. "If you will give it to that fair lady, she will open it." Miriam took it from my hand, saying, with a look of graceful deprecation, "Will you, my noble count, pardon me for an act which I would be well ashamed of, did not these gentlemen tell me that my curiosity may prove of use to you? I first discovered that the dagger-hilt was hollow. I too have opened it, and have read that which it contains. Forgive me--I know, I am sure you will."