"You would be right, my daughter," he murmured, with drooping head, "if
the money that I gave in exchange for Sairmeuse had really belonged to
me."

At this strange avowal the young girl turned pale and recoiled a step.

"What?" she faltered; "this gold was not yours, my father? To whom did
it belong? From whence did it come?"

The unhappy man had gone too far to retract.

"I will tell you all, my daughter," he replied, "and you shall judge.
You shall decide. When the Sairmeuse family fled from France, I had only
my hands to depend upon, and as it was almost impossible to obtain work,
I wondered if starvation were not near at hand.

"Such was my condition when someone came after me one evening to tell
me that Mademoiselle Armande de Sairmeuse, my godmother, was dying, and
wished to speak with me. I ran to the chateau.

"The messenger had told the truth. Mademoiselle Armande was sick unto
death. I felt this on seeing her upon her bed, whiter than wax.

"Ah! if I were to live a hundred years, never should I forget her face
as it looked at that moment. It was expressive of a strength of will and
an energy that would hold death at bay until the task upon which she had
determined was performed.

"When I entered the room I saw a look of relief appear upon her