For a moment Madeline did not answer him. She stood apparently calm and collected, but with a face whiter than that of the dead, fixing her large blue eyes upon first one and then another of the faces before her. ‘You are a villain!’ she said at length, walking steadily up to Monsieur Belleisle; ‘you have tried by cruel, cold-blooded falsehood to compass my ruin; you have nearly succeeded, but, thank God, I have found you out at last.’ Livid with rage, and completely taken off his guard, Belleisle stood with clenched fists, as if ready to strike his victim. Madame de Fontenay stepped forward to restrain him, but Madeline stood her ground. ‘Do not think to frighten me,’ she said; ‘those days are past, Monsieur Belleisle; though you were fifty times my husband, you shall be punished for all that you have done to me.’ ‘Madeline, my love, be reasonable,’ said Madame de Fontenay, ‘you are under some misapprehension--let me explain!’ ‘Let _you_ explain, Madame! you did that admirably to Monsieur Belleisle before I entered the room. I know that you are the cause of all this evil; I know it is through your wicked prompting that Monsieur Belleisle has been induced to make me what I am; I know that you have plotted together to bring about the ruin of a poor girl who never did you harm. With regard to you I am powerless, but upon that man, if there is any justice in the world, I will be revenged.’ By this time Belleisle had partly recovered his composure. He walked up to the angry girl, and asked quietly-- ‘How will you be revenged? Tell me that!’ ‘I will prosecute you for forgery; you wrote these letters to the Marquis de Vaux; you forged Mr. White’s writing, and sent a letter to me; he shall prosecute you too.’ Monsieur Belleisle turned whiter still. ‘It would be a new sensation in court,’ he said; ‘a young English girl prosecuting her French paramour. It would give you notoriety doubtless, Mademoiselle.’ ‘What do you mean?----’ ‘What I say--you are not my wife, thank God. I was by no means such a fool as you think, Mademoiselle. I went through a mock ceremony with you--thinking I would have a real one if I found your fortune was worth the sacrifice. I found it was not; therefore I have pleasure in informing you that you are free.--After all, there is not very much harm done, Mademoiselle, and it may give you pleasure to know that by gracing my table with your presence, and smiling upon my guests, you have been the means of bringing some money to me. No one but my good aunt knows that you have been my mistress--and with her I am sure your secret is safe.’ Still Madeline was silent; so, after a pause, Belleisle continued.