"Nay, Henry, nay," replied my cousin, with the blood mantling up in his cheek: "press it not if the baroness be there. If she be not, for a moment you can speak with the dear child, to tell her that, to save all farther pain on either part, your union is to take place in her chamber to-morrow night. Good old La Tour shall be brought from Montmorency to speak a blessing on you: the contract shall be duly drawn, and Albert shall be present, though I must not. One staircase shall be put in the hands of your people, to ensure your passing unopposed; the merchant engages that a gate of the city shall be kept open to give you exit; and then, as soon as she is yours, fly with her into the south without delay." "To-morrow night, did you say?" I exclaimed, in some surprise: "can all be arranged by that time?" "All, all," replied the baron; "and oh, Henry! when she is your wife, tell her that, towards her at least, her father was not made harsh by nature; tell, Henry--tell her, in one word, that she is like her mother; ay, and that, whatever she may think, I love her for that likeness." "Oh! Monsieur de Blancford," I cried, moved by those words, "Why, why will you not shake off the yoke that presses on you? why do you not treat threats with scorn?" "Because, Henry--because I have sold myself to a fiend," he answered. "Speak not of it now: one day I will tell you more." We rode on; and I saw Charles de Blancford--terribly changed, indeed, in the space of two short days--I saw Louise, too, though it was but for a few short minutes; but that was enough to tell her that our fate was changed, and to ask her if she would consent to be mine so suddenly, so secretly, so unprepared. She replied not at first, but her looks left all other answer needless; and, ere she could reply, we heard the arrival of the baroness in the courtyard, and we parted. With Charles I sat for some hours; and all I had to tell him of the transactions between his father and myself seemed to afford him better medicines than the druggist's shop could supply. I saw not the baroness: but, after my return to the house of Martin Vern, the baron came, and we passed nearly three hours in making every arrangement. The good merchant sat by and listened gravely, even sadly. Once I saw him bury his eyes in his hands, and he sighed often and deeply; but he promised all that we required in regard to his own aid; and, when the baron asked him if he thought not that our plan must certainly succeed, he replied, with a smile that I afterward understood better, "I will stake my life upon it." CHAPTER IX.