"Madeleine," he gasped, "Madeleine!"

The young girl was blushing crimson. She seemed about to hastily
retreat, and stepped back; but, Prosper having advanced toward her, she
was overcome by a sentiment stronger than her will, and extended her
hand, which he seized and pressed with much agitation.

They stood thus face to face, but with averted looks, as if they dared
not let their eyes meet for fear of betraying their feelings; having
much to say, and not knowing how to begin, they stood silent.

Finally Madeleine murmured, in a scarcely audible voice:

"You, Prosper--you!"

These words broke the spell. The cashier dropped the white hand which he
held, and answered bitterly:

"Yes, this is Prosper, the companion of your childhood, suspected,
accused of the most disgraceful theft; Prosper, whom your uncle has
just delivered up to justice, and who, before the day is over, will be
arrested, and thrown into prison."

Madeleine, with a terrified gesture, cried in a tone of anguish:

"Good heavens! Prosper, what are you saying?"

"What, mademoiselle! do you not know what has happened? Have not your
aunt and cousins told you?"