"It is useless to conceal from you, my friend, that when I sent you here I intended you to marry Mlle. Laroque. At first everything went as I wished. Your hearts, which I believe are worthy of one another, could not associate without sympathizing, but this strange event, of which the tower of Elven was the romantic scene, entirely disconcerts me, I must confess. Allow me to tell you, my young friend, that to jump out of window at the risk of breaking your neck was in itself a more than sufficient proof of your disinterestedness. It was quite superfluous to add to this honourable and considerate proceeding a solemn oath never to marry this poor girl except in contingencies we cannot possibly expect to see realized. I pride myself on being a man of resource—but I fully recognise that I cannot give you two hundred thousand francs, or take them away from Mlle. Laroque." "Then tell me what to do, sir. I have more confidence in you than in myself, for I see that misfortune, which is always exposed to suspicion, has made me excessively susceptible on questions of honour. Speak. Do you counsel me to forget the imprudent but still solemn oath which alone at this moment separates me from the happiness you had imagined for your adopted son?" M. Laubépin rose; his thick eyebrows drawn down over his eyes, he strode about the room for some minutes, then, stopping in front of me and seizing my hand, he said: "Young man, it is true that I love you like my own child; but, even at the cost of breaking your heart and my own, I will not be false to my principles. It is better in matters of honour do too much than too little, and as regards oaths, all those that are not extorted at the point of the knife or the mouth of a pistol, should either not be taken or should be kept. That is my opinion." "It is mine too. I will leave with you to-morrow morning." "No, Maxime, stay here a little longer. I do not believe in miracles, but I believe in God, who seldom allows us to be ruined by our virtues. Give Providence more time. I know that I am asking a very courageous effort from you, but I claim it formally from your friendship. If within a month you do not hear from me—well—then you can leave." He embraced me and left me to my quiet conscience and my desolate heart. _October 12th_. It is now two days since I have been able to leave my retirement and appear at the château. I had not seen Mlle. Marguerite since we separated at the tower of Elven. She was alone in the _salon_ when I entered. Recognising me, she made—involuntarily—an effort to rise. Then she sat motionless, and a flood of burning crimson dyed her face. It was infectious, for I felt that I was blushing to the forehead.