conversation--that she was on her way to Fontainebleau to see a friend,
with whom she spent every Tuesday and Saturday. Usually she took the
nine o'clock train.

"This was on a Tuesday; and during the next three days a great struggle
went on in my heart. I was desperately in love with the countess, and
still I was afraid of her. But my evil star conquered; and the next
Saturday, at nine o'clock, I was at the station again.

"The countess has since confessed to me that she expected me. When she
saw me, she made a sign; and, when they opened the doors, I managed to
find a place by her side."

M. Magloire had for some minutes given signs of great impatience; now he
broke forth,--

"This is too improbable!"

At first Jacques de Boiscoran made no reply. It was no easy task for
a man, tried as he had been of late, to stir up thus the ashes of the
past; and it made him shudder. He was amazed at seeing on his lips this
secret which he had so long buried in his innermost heart. Besides, he
had loved, loved in good earnest; and his love had been returned. And
there are certain sensations which come to us only once in life, and
which can never again be effaced. He was moved to tears. But as the
eminent advocate of Sauveterre repeated his words, and even added,--

"No, it is not credible!"

"I do not ask you to believe me," he said gently: "I only ask you to