CHAPTER VI.

Te Aroha News, Volume III, Issue 141, 13 February 1886, Page 3

CHAPTER VI.

THE GREY ENVELOPE. Jumping in his carnage, he drove rapidly down the rue de Chaillot to the Champs Elysdes, and when he saw the joyous movement of Paris, his ideas took another course* The brightly lighted catea, the lanterns of the moving car-iages that ehone in the distance along the wide avenue, the hum of gay life, chased away even the remembrance of a moment of foolish terror, as the sun dissipates nocturnal visions ; and he only remembered his visit to the De Mensignac mansion, and his firmly fixed resolution to save Jeanne's fortune in spite of Jeanne herself. " She will not marry me, and she wants to impoverish herself," thought he. a Ah, well, I will reverse our roles," and with that rapidity of conception that almost always develops itself after a crisis, he built up a plan in his mind that was very simple, as it was merely to prevent Mademoiselle de Meneignac from selling her house to pay her brother's debts, by paying them himself The execution of this plan presented numerous difficulties. To find five hundred thousand francs was not an impossible thing for Sartilly,who was rich and had good credit as a land-holder, therefore it was merely a question of time, but time was of the I greatest importance in the present condition of Jeanne'a mind, and if it wore to be paid, it must be done quickly. Prudence was also indispensable, as in borrowinga largesumlike'thiefrom a banker the Viscount saw that the secret of his intervention would be known, and, above all, he wished to avoid this ; and if he mortgaged his property through the intervention of a Paris notary, the inconvenience would be nearly the same. The only way that he saw to escape this was to try and obtain! the sum in Normandy, whjre he had large landed estates or to sell quietly a property of his in the Manche ; but as in the provinces nothing" is ever done quickly, Sartilly feared the delay. But there was another point still more embarrassing, for even if the money should be ready before the sale of the De Mensignac house, how could be induce Jeanne to accept it, for she had spoken with so much energy that the Vlecount despaired of overcoming her resolution. He remembered now that at the moment he left Jeanne'a house, and when turning the corner of the rue d'Astog, his horse nearly overthrew a passer-by, who avoided the shockby a rapid leap, and disappeared almost immediately. Sartilly, whose head was stuffed with odd histories and impossible adventures, received the impression that this man, more than shabbily dressed, had the appearance of Roger de Meneignac ; but he drove away this ridiculous supposition immediately, yet by a chain of ideas natural enough, this incidental meeting recalled to him the conversation that he had just had with Jeanne. The young girl believed now that h,er, brother was living, andalthough the Viscount was well convinced that she was deceived, he had not tried to chase away her last illusion, but reflecting on all the late singular coincidences, he was suddenly struck with an idea, which he believed to be a providential insp'ration. " I have found a plan," said he in a low voice, throwing the reins to Toby as soon as his carriage stopped before his house, and running up-atairs, he locked himself in his room, threw himself in an arm-chair, and

began to arrange the execution of this new i plan th'atfchance had just suggested to him ; •for as Jeanne believed in the existence' of Roger, she, could also be made to believe, he had aided Sartilly from his unknown retreat. And to make her decide upon taking the five hundred- thousand franca, he had only to persuade her that it came from her brother. This harmless deception,, he thought, would be accepted so much more easily, as Roger's mysterious absenoes were frequent, and he hoped in this way, also, his intervention might be unknown to the «vorld, as the aristocratic club of which De Mensignac was founder and member were accustomed'toseehim disappear periodically, and afterwards return withoat tbeteabsences , ( exciting any wonder, and merely drawing forth a few jesting remarks. The plan was, therefore, an excellent one, and to make it available, the sale of his own property must be hastened, and that of the De Menpignac mansion retarded, two results that must be accomplished at the same time. By taking the notary into his confidence, inducing him to act with him, he would be able to find expedients to retard the sale of the house, and besides, it is always easier to impede affairs than to hasten them, Therefore, on this score, -there was very little to fear, and as to his domains in Normandy, the Viscount knew he would have ho' trouble in getting r?d of them in a country where everyone desired •to posuess large landed estates. But the most difficult thing was to find a pretext to Induce Mademoiselle de Mensignac to accept the morey. An anonymous present of bank-wotes would certainly excite her mistrust and alarm her delipacy. Tho money must be brought by a messenger, or Roger's handwriting counterfeited, two proceedings absolutely, repugnant to Sartilly. And, nevertheless, he saw no other way of deceiving Jeanne without departing a little from the ordinary rules of life. At laet he thought he had found an expedient. He had received during his life many letters from Roger, acne of which had been brrnt, but others had been filed, and in searching the drawers of his secretary ho might find by chance something to aid him, as Roger; always addressed him as he did his sister, with the familiar thee and thou, and if no masculine name was attached to if, he might perhaps induce Jeanne to accept it. It was very assuredly a very faint hope, but yet it was a hope, and the Viscount, who had no choice of means, could not neglect this chance. He therefore went immediately to his old Bould secretary, where he usually locked up his letters, and as he seldom examined it, was frightened upon opening it to see the quantity of papers accumulated there, and thought he would have a great deal of trouble searching through the confused mass of notea and documents of all kinds. Order not being his predominant quality, he had the bad habit of throwing together pele-mele writings of »all kinds, from deeds of property, farm rents, etc , to love tokens and youthful poems. Although a - little dismayed at the work he had undertaken, he threw trmself bra r ely j into it, and began by examining each paper that came first to hand, rejecting all that were not in Roger's handwriting. He < found, not without trouble, numerous notes ] from .his friend— communications were ] unnecessary ; but unfort uiiately none answered the puropse, for a word, or a termina- t tion that indicated the sex of the percon, ] rendered them useless, and he scon became ] convinced that the search was almost i chimerical. i Ther« remained only ojo drawer un- < searched, and he remembered that it was in j that formerly he had locked up his most f important papers; therefore, it was very ; improbable that he would find there ,; common-place letters. But, that be might < leave nothing neglected, Sa^tilly opened it, 1 taking from it absently bundles of correspon- i dence, relics of former love-tokene, tied with * ribbons that time had faded, family papers, I and a musty parchment, evidence of a debt i contracted by one of his ancestors starting on the second crusade. 1 He was going to shut the drawer when his i eyes fell upon a packet of oblong form, j with numerous black wax seals, and on the < envelope were these words in Roger's hand- ] writing: "To my friend Edmond, to be ] opened after my death." I The first feeling of the Viscount was sur- ! prise, but he soon remembered that Roger ] had confided this to him five years ago, and ' he had almost completely forgotten it— ' first, because he went rarely to his drawer, ' also because he had never taken seriously j the superscription of this packet, "To be ' opened after my death !" These solemn ' words seemed so little in accordance with ; the youth and gayety of his friend that he ■ looked upon it rather as a passing fancy ; > and besides,, the circumstances under which ' Lloger had given him this mysterious letter ' were not such as to cause Sartilly to attach any importance to its contents. J Now he remembered it all perfectly. It ! was after a "gay supper at night, or rather | in the morning. Roger had just come back to Paris, after a long absence, and a large company had collected to celebrate his re- i turn, — for he was' very much beloved by his companions, although seperated from ' them by long intervals. ; The guests, having talked successively of English : horses, of the fine wines of Bordeaux, aprd of women of. fashion— those ■ inexhaustible , subjects of conversation at : clubs — had by chance touched on a more \ serious subject. ' They spoke of the sudden deith of a , foreigner, who was believed to have been very wealthy, yet had left absolutely nothing, and his wife and children had fallen .very suddenly from opulence into the moat complete destitution. All researches had •been in. vain ; neither money nor property of any kind had been found, although the deceased had inhabited Paris thirty years, and was supposed to have had a considerable fortune. This odd event had been commented on in a thousand different ways, each one' having his own explanation of it, the most ■ simple of all being that the foreigner lived on some annuity, or some secret employment that naturally ended with his life. The majority leaned to this rather uncharitable opinion ; but De Mensignac was not of the same mind, and it happened that Sartilly remembered perfectly and could almost recall his words. "There are cases," he said, "when a man may misrepresent or hide bis fortune, but in such a case precaution ought to be taken against apoplexy, and Sir John Farnum must have been a fool." They separated after this, and the two friends left the club together on foot, each smoking a cigar. On reaching the rue d'Astorg, Roger, while shaking hands wifh Sartilly, gave him a packet, saying to him quite coolly. — '•Keep this until I ask you -to return it to me," and then started off quickly to the Champs Elyse*es. • ,c f < The Viscount had only read the address at the moment he was going to bed, and was rather astonished at this unexpected deposit; but as he expected to Bee his friend the next day, and ask him why he had taken this mournful precaution, he threw the package in" the drawer without thinking more of it. The next day, as it often happened, the Marquis left without saying where he was going, therefor© Sartilly could not question him ; and Roger's absense lasting a month, Edmond had gone

I ' to Baden, and, on his return to Parip, ; Roger had gone to Burgundy, as it was the ' opening of the hunting season. i. • By a series of similar mischances, summer and part of the autumn passed without the two friends meeting, and when the season for coming back to Paris had arrived 1 Sartilly, naturally giddy, had completely | forgotten the deposit ; did not speak of it ' to De Mensignac j the latter never alluded to it, and the package remained at the bottom of the secretary. The Viscount's search had brought about a discovery which at thia moment was of 1 immense importance, and his friend must have been looking forward for a long time , to some impending misfortune, and doubtless wished to make a provision for it. The great secret was there within that large grey envelope, sealed in black with the De Mensignac arms, and Sartilly, holding in his hand the mysterious package, read again the disquieting address, feeling a kind of superstitious fear while handling it, and, in spite of his ardent desire to know its contents, had not the courage to open it. Chance had sent him the explanation so ardently longed for, of the dark problem of Roger's disappearance, and instead of hastening to acquaint himself with it, he was' lingering willingly in a field of conjectures. What was he going to learn ? What revelations had De Mensigrnac. enclosed in this envelope so easily unsealed ? His troubled imagination called forth a thousand chimeras, and foresaw discoveries still stranger than the reality— strange as they were already — his memory bringing forth a variety of circumstances in the life of his friend, to which the recent events gave a serious signification. He felt sure that when the time Roger confided thispackage to him coincided with the time of his first payment to M. de Noreff, as M. Calmet had affirmed that five years before the Marquis had paid back to the odious foreigner the sum of four hundred thousand francs borrowed the preceding year. Sartilly did not know the precise day of the payment, but he could learn it from' the notary and as for the supper, he remembered it took place in 1842, in the latter end of April. If the two dates coincided it might well be supposed the forewarning of misfortune had come to Roger after a money affair with M de Noreff. It was also after this epoch that the absences of the Marquis had become longer and more frequent. All concurred then in bringing the crime home to the miserable De Noreff, who was pursuiug so rancorously the De Mensignac family, and would soon perhaps attack Jeanne, the only branch left of the house ; and the thought of the danger to which she was exposed gave Sartilly the courage to go on with the investigation. " The means of saving her is contained in the lotter," murmured he, making a movement to break the seal. The wax was already cracking under his fingers, when he let the envelope fall with a gesture of discouragement, and by a singular chance, the idea that should have struck him before all others came to him last, and he read again the address, " After my death !" Roger had written. And Roger,— was he really dead ! It was only too probable, but not certain ; and if he were living, why penetrate his secrets by breaking the seal that protected them ? Cruel doubts took possession of Sar billy, and he fell back again into bis former hesitations. If he had been sure that the letter only contained a will, or instructions relative to Roger's fortune, Jeanne's interest would have quickly overcome all other considerations. An information, an indication, a note from her brother, might save the young girl from ruin, and the De Mensignac name from dishonour. It was „Y©ry probable that Sartilly would find some conclusive document, and the secret of th,e singular management of the Marquis's was hid perhaps under this grey envelope. But who can say that Roger had not some sad reasons for hiding his secret ? And if Jeanne were right, and her brpther, still living, came back to demand this package, how could the Viscount have the face to reply, "I thought you were dead, and disobeying the command you had given me, broke the seal of the package left in my care." Even the very /nought of this shame made the blood mount into Sartilly "s face, and he remained a long time motionless, leaning his head on his hands, with a weary, depressed look, like a man who had jutt passed through a A'iolent struggle. The worst of all sufferings of the mind, uncertainty, overwhelmed him, and he had no longer even the energy to throw the letter baclc into the drawer, lock the se cretary.and chase away the temptation that beset him. Instead of coming to a decision, he thought of his love for Jeanne, and the danger she was exposed to ; then the scene of the night before came back to his mind -the bloody head, the chief of the police, and his agent Jottrat. All this complication of horrors and mysteries took possession of him as a nightmare, and in the midst of these odious visions the detestable face of De Noreff appeared before him; then torpor gave place to a ferocious hate, and getting up suddenly, he began walking with rapid steps along the room, murmuring disconnected words and clenching his fists, as if trying to fight an invisible enemy. "The miserable wretch !" he muttered ; " 'tis he who cut this woman's throa% and is the cause of Roger's disappearance, and I, allowing myself to be taken in by a miserable jugglery, left his house without strangling him with my hand?, because he i showed me one of his accomplices resemb- | ling his victim. Now I must wait until Jottrat prepares hi? traps to unmask him." Suddenly he bounded toward the secretary, eeized the letter, broke the seal. The wax crumbled under his fingers, and the torn envelope disclosed different coloured papers. There was, first, a package of let ters -written on rose-tinted paper, and bound together by a silken thread. • There could be no mistaking these, they were loveletters; and Sartilly stopped, surprised at this unexpected discovery, hesitating to violate these intimate confidences, when he read written transversely in Roger's handwriting on the back of the package these words : "To be burnt after my death. " Certainly this was an order, and if the envelope contained nothing else the indiscretion of the Viscount would answer no purpose. He took the package of letters without opening them, and put them on the secretary, entirely out of his sight, to avoid the temptation of even glancing at them His curiosity had so justifiable a motive that the precaution just taken against himself was immediately rewarded as he found a paper and recognised hia friend's bold handwriting. Edmond felt his heart beating more quickly, and his eyesight became so dim from agitation that at first be could scarcely read the lines, but making a great effort he began : "My dear Edmond," Roger had written, "I beg you to excuse the rather solemn requests I am obliged to address to you ; however, I hope, while drawing up what I must call my last will, you will not have to execute it, for the embarrassment in which I am placed now must be over at the end of five years, and I firmly expect to live until then, But, whatever may happen, this is my actual situation. lam neither a counterfeiter nor a conspirator ; nevertheless, I am obliged to take precautions not usual with, honest people, and the moment has not arrived for explaining the cause

of these mysteries ; but • I will explain thetn to you some day while smoking one of those- excellent cigars that our file-id Vegas brought me last year from fDwara. In the meantime, this is what I liave to tell you, and ask of you. For reasons that you will know later, 1 have been obliged to change my investments, and possess nothing under the sun, as they say in Noi-nandy, having no revenue coming from Government funds. But do not be alarmed ; my inheritance from my father is unimpaired, and I ha?e even increased it. I have only placed it where it will be 89cure ; the meanß are sure, and will be perfectly safe as long as I live ; but I may die, and in this case I shall need your aid. Ido not wish Jeanne to suffer from my misfortunes, and I trust to you the care of restoring to her unimpaired the fortune of our house, so that if I die before reclaiming this package, this is what you must do. Here, my dear Edmond, you will laugh, as the instructions I am going to give you would not be out of place in a drama ; but I have reasons for distrust, and can leave nothing to chance. ,As .soon as you have read my letter, I beg you to go to my house, and open in the library my carved oak bookcase, that I won from' you at Chantilly. You will rejfiember my bet against Seymour's horse,, and you will easily recognise the piece of/furniture that was so long in your room. You are the only person who would be able to distinguish it from the others, as I took care to have six made of the same pattern. "The bookcase has a secret drawer, of which you know the spring, and on the upper shelf you will see twenty volumes. Open the seventh, beginning at the left, and at tne nineteenth line of Dage 119 of this book begins a sentence that you will read with attention,— that's all. " I eeem to hear you say that I must be crazy, but I swear to you nothing can be more perious After reading the seven or eight lines I have pointed out, you will understand, and bavo nothing more to do than to act. "You must go alone— alone ; do. you understand me perfectly ? You must go alone to save Jeanne's fortune ; give ifc to her on your return, showing this letter, and I can say to you, as I will bo no longer living when you read this, that I hope you will marry her. " Adieu, my old friend, and pardon tne for giving you these mysterious and annoying commissions. Roger De Mensignac." The signature was written in as bold a hand as the letter, but the postscript that followed showed some tremulousness : " Burn the letters inclosed without reading them, and promise me never to try to discover who has written them." Sartilly i*emained motionless, absorbed by his reflections, unable to peize a clear idea, as Roger's letter confirmed fully all his apprehension?. He had hoped to find in the envelope more precise indications, and in place of the revelations he expected, it only furnished him with cold directions for finding a hidden fortune. Not a word of the adversaries who pursued their dark plans in the back-ground ; no information that could put him on the track : not only the name of De Noreff was not mentioned, but nothing that could connect this odious foreigner with the cause of the perils that the Marquis scarcely hinted at ; nothing excepting perhaps the coincidence of the time fixed by Roger with the terriblg events that had taken place two nights before. "In five years," he had written, " I shall be delivered from these enemies, powerful enough to oblige me to withdraw my fortune. In five years I shall have nothing more to fear — be able to renounce these precautions and my life of mystery and concealment." Five years were just over ; Roger had disappeared suddenly. The strange conjunction striking Sartilly, made him concentrate on this point all the faculties of his mind, and the work to which he had abandoned himself resembled the researches of fchofce scientific men who, from an isolated fragment, try to find out the structure of an animal belonging to an extinct race. The term assigned by De Mensignac must rest on a precise and material fact, and if he asset te^. that at a fixed time he would be free and at ease, it was assuredly at the same date he expected to be exempted from a contracted obligation. And now, two days before M. de !Noreff had claimed the payment of the enormous loan of five hundred thousand francs of which no one could explain the origin, Roger, who had notified the notary the day before to come and receive the sum, could no longer bo found The conclusion might be easily drawn, and Sartilly began gradually to feel enlightened on the gloomy episodes of those two days, the very last of the five years. The unknown enemy had got rid of Roger the day when his power over the De Mensiffnac family would have ceased, and after robbing the heir of his good name, he had killed him. The Marquia had not imagined so much villainy, firmly believing that after five years he would be free, expecting then without doubt, in exchange for a last payment, to recover the proofs that De Noreff had had against him for years ; and that he might not part with these, the murderer had struck him. Sartilly thought he had sufficiently penetrated this side of the mystery, and felt himself more strongly armed against the wretch he had to combat with. Nevertheless, nothing explained the part that the young girl with the golden hair had played in this gloomy history. By what obscure bond was she connected with the disappearance, of Roger, and how was he to reach the author of these two crimes ? The letters might explain the enigma, but to read them in spite of the prohibition of Roger would have been a real felony that the discount was incapable of committing. However, he determined not to burn them until he was quite certain Roger was dead, 60 he threw the package into the bottom of the drawer, locked the secretary carefully, fastened Roger's note in his pocket-book, and his ideas turning at the same moment to Roger's request, he was surprised at its oddity. He remembered perfectly the piece of furniture, and the bet by which he had_ lost it, feeling sure, if he could I recognise the bookcase among the six others similar to' it, he could find the shelf where he had formerly placed the family deeds. But a search at this moment in the gloomy gallery where he bad just felt a sentiment of involuntary terror, inspired him with a secret repugnance, and nothing would have induced him to return thither this evening, as his nerves had not sufficiently recovered from the shock they had experienced, and to face the solitude of the library, he would wait for bright daylight to chase away the visions of his brain, and strengthen his reason. Besides, exhausted as he was with fatigue, he felt a real need of change and rest— therefore decided to dine at his club, and rang for his valet to dress him. The more serious the circumstances became, the more complicated the situation, the more need he had of all his composure and sagacity ; and these two qualities being weakened, all others are, by a long strain on the brain. Sartilly began to be bewildered in his embarrassment of facts and contradictory information. He remembered opportunely that in his youth he had often found while walking,

i the solution of a problem on which he had - usually occupiedlong hours of study, and he 3 concluded that an evening- spent at oarda r and in pleasant chat would be* very favour3 able to his plans ; hoping above all to es- . cape for the night from the mournful } thoughts that had agitated him for the lasfc I two days; to forget severed heads, policer agents, money affairs, and take up again f the pleasant life of a man of leisure and ita ) tranquillity. i He therefore went to his club with the determination of dining as cheerfully as he • could, and to mix in all the gay conversation in order to realise his desire of amusing himself; but he had yet some efforts to • make, for it is rather difficult to reason one's self into enjoyment, and to laugh from necessity. He depended, however, a great • deal upon meeting pleasant companions, i and a little, it musb be acknowledged, upon the excellent wines at the club. In going up the staircase, he shook off energetically his sadness, and succeeded in recovering his old, gay manner, which he had rather lost. His entrance into the spacious red s&loon was greeted by 'joyous acclamations, for Sartilly. was very much liked at the club, where they appreciated his quick mind and courteous manners. He had been there very rarely during the winter, and they knew that his approaching marriage would make him renounce the club in a measure ; so he was warmly welcomed., While in the midet of this elegant circle, and listening to the amusing conversation around him, his mind recovered its strength and serenity. After numerous and cordial shaking of hands with his friends, he seated himself in the favourite corner of the room, throwing himself at once into the current of the little' nothings of the circle. The subjects suited admirably a man who wished above all things to be gay, as they spoke of the last two scandals of the ball-room, And anecdotes succeeded each other without interruption, It was really a rolling ball of fire, and Sartilly, though a little behindhand in the aftalrs of the day, remembered them sufficiently to be as quick as usual with his brilliant repartees. But unfortunately he had not thought of the transition which might have been easily foreseen, that brought the conversation on another ground, and from the dance passed on very naturally to the opera ball, when a voice cried out in the middle of an anecdote : "But that is nothing to compare with the adventure of the lady with the golden hair." This unfortunate remark gave a blow to Sartilly's heart, chilled all his gayety, and, putting his hands to his forehead to hide his paleness, he made an instinctive movement to leave, for a fatality seemed to follow him, by recalling to him everywhere he went the horrible events -he wished to forget ; but perhaps nothing more might be said on this disagreeable subject, so he decided to remain. He who had spoken the words that had alarmed the Viscount so much was a young officer— rather giddy, very talkative, and a great gossip, whose favourite amusement consisted in gathering in all Parisian circles the news of the day. There was a general cry, " Let us know what it is ! Chateaubrun, tell it to us 1" Sartilly, rather interested in knowing what the public thought of the events of the night, listened attentively to rhe Captain's recital. The latter, balancing himself in his arm-chair, and blowing out two or three puffs of cigar smoke, as a man sure of producing an effect, began after a sufficient pause. "You all know of whom I am going to speak !" " Yes," replied together a chorus of two or three voices— "the veiled woman— Titian'a picture — who drives every day in the Cliamp3 Eiys<ses." "Who drove," replied Chateaubrun, emphasizing the verb, "for you will never see her again, my dear friends ; and you, Prdcey, will never more be one of her cavalcade from four to six o'clock." "And why, I beg you ?" said the gentleman appealed to, very coolly. The Captain made a slight movement of his head, like an actor about to launch an effective word, and after a short silence said : "Because her head was cub off the night of the opera ball V" This unexpected communication raised a tempest of exclamations and laughter, in the midst of which could be distinguished questions and jests. " Was it in the journal of the Tribunals that you found your news? or have you friends in the police-office ?" "Gentlemen," answered Chateaubrun, quietly, "I obtained my information elsewhere, but it is of irreproachable exactitude. The person who told me saw and touched the head of the veiled lady, and this head was completely separated from the body." " The deuce !" said M. de Pricey ; ft and this is so much more extraordinary, as this afternoon I saw the lady in question going up the Champs Elysoes in her carriage just as usual !" " Which of you two is crazy?" stared at the same time many of the listeners. "I assure you it is true," said the Captain, who seemed to have no doubt of his statement; "and you will no longer dcubt it when I tell you there were three witnesses of the fact. " " Well, who are they?" asked his incre,dulous listeners. •' One was Baron Pollard, who has the ridiculous liveries ; the jfcher young Genovese whose name I have forgotten, and there was yet another— The other?— let me see —Ah," he said, " now I have it— the other, he is here ; it is our friend who has just risen from the dead this evening, our friend Sartilly," and jumping up, he took the' Viscount's arm, whoae embara^sment was extreme. All eyes are cow fixed on Sartilly, who, after having"turned pale with emotion, was now , crimson with anger, at being thus brought forward. "Come, my dear friend, as you were present, tell us the truth," they exclaimed. Greatas was the irritation of the Viscount, he had sufficient command over himself to concealit, and to answer'calmly : "Chateaubrun and De Precey are both right ; it is really true that there was a decapitated head, but it was not that of the lady with golden hair. There has been simply a great crime, ,and I am annoyed at being mixed by chance in this foolish story, for I passed all day yesterday at the police office, which was not very diverting." After this preamble, Sartilly related briefly the facts, taking care not to mention hia friend Roger's name, and now hoped that this, to him, insupportable conversation was over. The explanation was accepted, and the conversation was turning into another channel, when another person present made an unexpected remark : " I also know one of the witnesses," he said, in a very decided German accent. " And he has given me details that M. de Sartilly has forgotten." The person who renewed so unexpectedly a nearly exhausted subject was a stranger lately admitted to the club, whose name was ' M. de Dohna, a Prussian by birth, naturalised in Russia, and who was said to be a large land-holder in Courland. He was rather prepossessing in appearance, but his exaggerated politeness had made him disliked by a large number of the members of the club. Sartilly among others did not like him, and was very much offended at hia remark. (To be Continued.)