equal his meanness."

"Perhaps so! I think he would shrink from nothing in the way of
rascality. But who could have employed him in this vile work of
dishonoring an honest man?"

"The Marquis de Valorsay."

On hearing this name, the baron bounded to his feet.
"Impossible!" he exclaimed; "absolutely impossible! M. de Valorsay
is incapable of the villainy you ascribe to him. What do I say?--
he is even above suspicion. I have known him for years, and I
have never met a more loyal, more honorable, or more courageous
man. He is one of my few trusted friends; we see each other
almost every day. I am expecting a visit from him even now."

"Still it was he who incited M. de Coralth to do the deed."

"But why? What could have been his object?"

"To win a young girl whom I love. She--loved me, and he saw that
I was an obstacle. He put me out of the way more surely than if
he had murdered me. If I died, she might mourn for me--
dishonored, she would spurn me----"

"Is Valorsay so madly in love with the girl, then?"

"I think he cares but very little for her."

"Then why----"