child nor a coward; and I have always met phantoms face to face. I have
measured the danger, and I know it is fearful."

Dionysia shuddered. She cried,--

"What will become of us?"

This time M. de Boiscoran heard her, and was ashamed of his weakness.
But, before he could master his feelings, the young girl went on,
saying,--

"But never mind. These are idle thoughts. Truth soars invincible,
unchangeable, high above all the ablest calculations and the most
skilful combinations. Jacques, you must tell the truth, the whole truth,
without subterfuge or concealment."

"I can do so no longer," murmured he.

"Is it such a terrible secret?"

"It is improbable."

Dionysia looked at him almost with fear. She did not recognize his old
face, nor his eye, nor the tone of his voice. She drew nearer to him,
and taking his hand between her own small white hands, she said,--

"But you can tell it to me, your friend, your"--

He trembled, and, drawing back, he said,--