"It's my wife," said the concierge.

And, delighted to get away, he said to Papa Ravinet--

"I understand; she shall be treated as politely as if she were the
daughter of the owner of the house. But excuse me, I must attend to the
door; they call me, and I must go down stairs."

He slipped out without waiting for an answer, and utterly unable to
guess why the old merchant should take such a sudden interest in the
lodger on the fifth floor.

"The rascal!" said Papa Ravinet to himself,--"the rascal!"

But he had found out what he wanted to know. He was alone, and he knew
he had no time to lose.

Quickly he drew the teakettle from the fire; and, pulling out Miss
Henrietta's two letters, he held the one that was addressed to M. Maxime
de Brevan over the steam of the boiling water. In a moment the mucilage
of the envelope was dissolved, and the letter could easily be opened
without showing in any way that it had ever been broken open. And now
the old man read the following words:--


"You are victorious, M. de Brevan. When you read this, I shall be no
longer alive.

"You may raise your head again; you are relieved of all fears. Daniel
can come back. I shall carry the secret of your infamy and your