CHAPTER I.

THE ORPHAN'S TRIAL


"We met ere yet the world had come
To wither up the springs of youth,
Amid the holy joys of home,
And in the first warm blush of youth.
We parted as they never part,
Whose tears are doomed to be forgot;
Oh, by what agony of heart.
Forget me not!--forget me not!"

--Anonymous.


At nine o'clock the next morning Traverse went to the library to
keep his tryst with Colonel Le Noir.

Seated in the doctor's leathern chair, with his head thrown back,
his nose erect and his white and jeweled hand caressing his
mustached chin, the colonel awaited the young man's communication.

With a slight bow Traverse took a chair and drew it up to the table,
seated himself and, after a little hesitation, commenced, and in a
modest and self-respectful manner announced that he was charged with
the last verbal instructions from the doctor to the executor of his
will.