"I am wrong to agitate myself thus; she will not marry; she has promised it; and then have I not the testament in my own hands? But Hochstetter knows it; he possesses proofs of its existence. I fear he has a copy of it. Oh! he knows very well what he has done! My daughter, the wife of his son--_le misérable_! To abuse thus my friendship, my confidence; that calls for revenge. But no, I have merited it; it is my fault. She loves the son and respects the father more than she does me. I could cry with rage." Pronouncing these words with ferocity he fell back upon his seat, somber and discouraged, and remained plunged in thought. VI A half hour later, when he judged that all were wrapped in slumber he rose, took from a secret compartment of his escritoire a little key, lighted a dark lantern, and left the room. After having assured himself that there was no fear of meeting any one, he advanced softly and descended the staircase. Arriving in the spacious corridor, he first went to the street door to assure himself that it was solidly fastened, returned, opened another door at the end of the corridor, and descended the stairs which led into the cellar. The dwelling of the miser was very large; the cellars extended under the street, forming a species of labyrinth. His father had constructed them upon a vast scale in order that they might serve as storehouses in times of trouble. Frügger went through them with a sure step which proved sufficiently that all the nooks and corners were familiar to him. After having traversed several of these subterranean chambers, he stopped suddenly before one of the last, and listened attentively, to assure himself that the same silence continued to reign, and that no one would come to interrupt him. As all remained tranquil he advanced towards one of the angles of the vault. This angle differed in no respect from the others; the walls were as damp and as dark, but hardly had Frügger introduced the little key into an imperceptible opening, which no one but himself could distinguish, when a solid iron door turned upon its hinges, opened, and permitted him to pass into another vault of which no one would have suspected the existence. After having listened anxiously and persuaded himself that no one watched him, he entered; the massive door shut behind him with a loud clang that sounded through the subterranean apartments. A second after the silence of death reigned throughout the dwelling. [Illustration: INTERIOR OF AN OLD HOUSE, ANTWERP.]