"When Germain was lodging here, did he never hear your father at times accuse the notary of desiring to seduce you?" "My father never expressed his fears before strangers; and besides, at this period, I deceived his uneasiness, and comforted him by the assurances that M. Ferrand no longer thought of me. Alas! my poor father will now forgive me those falsehoods? I only employed them to tranquillise your mind, father dear, that was all." Morel made no reply; he only leaned his forehead on his two arms, crossed on his working-board, and sobbed bitterly. Rodolph made a sign to Louise not to address herself to her father, and she continued thus: "I led from this time a life of tears and perpetual anguish. By using every precaution, I had contrived to conceal my condition from all eyes; but I could not hope thus to hide it during the last two months. The future became more and more alarming to me, as M. Ferrand had declared that he would not keep me any longer in the house; and therefore I should be deprived of the small resources which assisted our family to live. Cursed and driven from my home by my father, for, after the falsehoods I had told him to set his mind at ease, he would believe me the accomplice, and not the victim of M. Ferrand, what was to become of me? where could I find refuge or place myself in my condition? I then had a criminal idea; but, fortunately, I recoiled from putting it into execution. I confess this to you, sir, because I will not keep any thing concealed, not even that which may tell against myself; and thus I may show you the extremities to which I was reduced by the cruelty of M. Ferrand. If I had given way to such a thought, would he not have been the accomplice of my crime?" After a moment's silence, Louise resumed with great effort, and in a trembling voice: "I had heard say by the porteress that a quack doctor lived in the house,--and,--" She could not finish. Rodolph recollected that, at his first interview with Madame Pipelet, he had received from the postman, in her absence, a letter written on coarse paper, in a feigned hand, and on which he had remarked the traces of tears. "And you wrote to him, unhappy girl, three days since? You wept over your letter; and the handwriting was disguised." Louise looked at Rodolph in great consternation. "How did you know that, sir?" "Do not alarm yourself; I was alone in Madame Pipelet's lodge when they brought in the letter; and I remarked it quite accidentally."