dream or of one of those mirages which rise before men who travel across
the sandy African deserts? The latitude and the position of the sun
forbade this interpretation. But whence came it, then? What fairy had
turned a magic ring in order to work this miracle?

A crackling of dry twigs under a light tread made him turn, and he beheld
Zibeline, who had come up behind him.

The fairy was there, pale and trembling, like a criminal awaiting arrest.

"Is it you who have done this?" Henri exclaimed, with a sob which no
human strength could have controlled.

"It is I!" she murmured, lowering her eyes. "I did it in the hope that
some day you would take back that which rightfully belongs to you."

"Rightfully, you say? By what act?"

"An act of restitution."

"You never have done me any injury, and nothing authorizes me to accept
such a gift from Mademoiselle de Vermont."

"Vermont was the family name of my mother. When my father married her,
he obtained leave to add it to his own. I am the daughter of Paul
Landry."

"You!"

"Yes. The daughter of Paul Landry, whose fortune had no other origin