those which fewer tears had bleached, attested the still vital susceptibilities of happiness. But in the vast multitude the countenance of youth prevailed-joyous, unclouded, glowing in the gorgeous light.

anomaly at once into oblivion. As there were several individuals standing on the same bench, and the crowd pressing all around, I was in comparative obscurity, and being evidently unobserved by Guissac, I determined on preserving the position, taking furtive observations as often as the moving labyrinth of legs, arms, and hats allowed. As I wore a different dress from that in which I had travelled I had little fear of recognition, yet, for more effective concealment, as my curiosity had now some substantial cause,

cap as far over my head as possible. Once and again a momentary perspective of limbs terminated in the grim visage, the eyes peering impatiently from under their gloomy hedges.

Yes, there were two notable exceptions to this general rule of faces. I repeatedly observed a figure-evidently that of a girl just entering upon womanhood, whose face was quite an anomaly in the crowd, being thickly veiled. As she was, unlike most of her sex on such an evening, unsupported by knight or squire, II elevated the neck of my coat, and pulled my at once attributed the circumstance of the veil to the modesty and shyness of observation naturally to be looked for in unprotected females -a conjecture which her whole appearance confirmed. Unfortunately, however, the means Another vista of limbs, and the visage looks frustrated the end; and many a head was turned more impatient still. Another, and there is a round as the veiled face moved quietly past. glance of recognition, the object of which, howI kept my eye on the movement of this femi-ever, is not myself, but some one in the crowd. nine anomaly as much as the tidal flux and reflux of the heaving multitude would permit. It is the law of Curiosity that it increases in the direct ratio of its distance from satisfaction; and therefore it is not to be wondered at that, as the veil continued unlifted, the possessor of it became invested with a gradually increasing interest, such as the veiled image of Sais itself might have inspired. The only positive results of my observation, however, for some time, were that her perambulations did not extend beyond the Rond Point on the one hand, and the Barrière de l'Etoile on the other, and that she confined herself entirely to the side farthest from the Seine.

I had momentarily lost sight of the object of my curiosity, who had been absorbed by a more than usually tempestuous movement of the crowd, which for a moment yawned and discovered the channels of the great deep, then closed again as if in obedience to some law in the constitution of crowds-if that is governed by laws which are proverbially fickle. Now I do not join with Horace in hating the "profanum vulgus," and far from ever attempting to "drive them away," I am ever ready to identify myself with their impulses, and resign myself to their laws. It was, therefore, with unmurmuring resignation that I permitted the same tempestuous movement to sweep me violently against one of the many benches which, in the Champs Elysées, are ever ready to receive the weary, and it was in the same spirit that, finding free motion for the time impossible, I sat myself down on a vacant corner of it to await an opening in the billows. Just as I did so, a man mounted the other corner of the bench, and, raising himself against the tree, under whose shade it was placed, at once instituted a searching analysis of the multitude beneath him. There was no mistaking that grisly countenance, that cunning ferocious eye. How le Sieur Guissac had got there, and what he wanted contemplating the crowd instead of the illumination I knew not, but certainly it was he. The return of my thoughts to the more tangible mystery of the morning sent the veiled

I rose from my concealment just in time to see Guissac squeeze himself down from his perch, and pounce upon the veiled anomaly.

She was at no great distance from me, so that I could hear her exclaim, in a soft girlish tone, "Est il possible! Mon père !"-which at once established their relation.

I was struck with the tone of the voice. It was not that of delighted recognition, but a low modulated surprise. It was full of filial tenderness, yet the ear could not but detect a certain mingling of apprehension. But the voice was remarkably sweet. Many a head manifested an intention to revolve on its axis, attracted by the soft utterance; but the remorseless crowd swept them on-heads, hats, and all. Guissac's only answer to the salutation was to take fast hold of his daughter's arm, staying himself and her against the tree till the waters slightly assuaged, then to dash through, bearing her along; with him, struggling "like a strong swimmer in his agony." I followed close in his wake. "And by what right?

By the right which every man has to pry into the affairs of his neighbours. By the right which adapts eyes to key-holes, noses to windowpanes, ears to walls. By the right which may possibly lead you, reader, to turn over a few leaves more; therefore, fellow sinner, accept the plea of--curiosity.

But I had a willing persuasion too, that I had a business to perform. If anything lurked beneath the circumstances of the morning, I was to a certain extent involved, and this led me to consider myself justified in following up any clew to the real nature of the business. Perhaps, too, presentiment had much to do with it. When the web of action which is weaving between Earth and Heaven-and of which we now see only the under-side, coarse and intricately meaningless as it often seems-shall hereafter be viewed by us from on high in all the beauty of design and execution, how many of those motives which are hid from the world, and almost from self-consciousness, shall be seen forming the deep ground of great consequences and "fine issues!"

Be the motive what it might, I followed them. | inventive. I was astonished even at myself when They soon diverged from the Champs Elysées I replied, without hesitation: "Had you let me into the Rue de l'Oratoire, along which they go a step farther without challenging me I would had not proceeded many yards when Guissac, certainly have advised M. Biot to find a more probably noticing my pace uniform with their trustworthy person. In the meantime, father own, turned suddenly round. Fortunately, I and daughter have just entered, have they not?" was just at the moment beside a café, outside of Oui, Monsieur," replied the Concièrge, in a which was the usual complement of chairs and tone of respectful humiliation: "Cette porte-la, small round tables, and nearly the usual com- à gauche." plement of imbibers. I dropped into a chair at once, and imitating the order which just then was issuing from between a moustache and imperial at another table, called out: "Garcon, un verre d'absinthe, si'l vous plait?" The two absinthes appeared almost instantaneously, but with the one came La Patrie," and with the other "Galignani." Let John Bull muster his very best French in a café, he cannot escape "Galignani." I only waited to see how the native managed the unknown fluid, and, diluting it with water after his example, I choked down what seemed to me an infusion of fiddler's rosin, left the price of the enjoyment on the table, and set off again in pursuit.

This was not an accidental step on my part. Short as was the time of my cogitation I considered that if M. Biot had no connection with the establishment my business was at an end, and that, if the mention of his name proved a failure, I had nothing to do but retreat as fast as possible. On the other hand I thought, if he turned out to be the ruling-power here, then, putting the affairs of the passport, the pistols, and Guissac's advice together, I had some pretext for exploration.

I moved on, without further parley, towards the door indicated; before reaching which I caught sight, through the half-open shutters of a window on the ground-floor, of the very objects of my search. I did not, however, arrest myself at once, but stood in the doorway, awaiting the domestication of the Concièrge. As soon as I heard him close the wicket, and shut himself up in his little lodge, I re-emerged, and, taking up my position as near as possible, found, to my great delight, that not only the shutter, but the window itself was partially open, and that there was no more serious acoustic impediment than a pair of frail Venetian blinds.

The two figures were then just crossing the Faubourg St. Honoré, which I reached just in time to see them again diverge into the Rue Montaigne. This street, being quite out of the line of illumination, was almost deserted, so that I had to proceed very cautiously; but, on arriving at the Rue de Valois du Roule I could accelerate my pace, and observe them more nearly, the one side of the street to which I kept being dead wall, with an unpaved footpath. Guissac and his daughter kept to the other side until, arriving at a gate near the end of a street, At that precise moment, however, nothing was they came to a full stop. I passed on, not how-to be heard but the low sobbing of the girl. ever without taking the bearings of the spot. She was lying on a sofa, on which she had I allowed some moments to pass after I heard evidently thrown herself with the sudden imthe bell tinkle, and the wicket open, before pulse of emotion. Her face was hid in her judging it prudent to turn round. I waited hands, and her hands by her hair, that streamed some time longer in expectation of hearing it in long, dark, waving tresses, to the floor, where close, but, becoming impatient, I retraced my lay her bonnet and veil still entangled in them. steps as fast as possible towards the gate at Her figure, though slight, was yet so exquisitely which they had entered. A figure was discerni- proportioned that additional stature could hardly ble outside, but it was tall and thin, and there have added to its elegance, and would certainly fore could not be Guissac. It was merely the have diminished that nameless allurement and Concierge worshipping the host of Heaven, with loveableness inseparable from mignardise. Of his hands-the position of a Frenchman's hands course we must notice the delicate little foot may be taken for granted. which the careless abandonment of grief has left hanging over the sofa, and of which a beautiful white kitten is in vain attempting to take advantage in order to reach its wonted place in its mistress' lap.

Had the wicket been closed I would probably have ventured at once to the Champs Elysées, after merely marking the house for a future visit. But seeing it open, even though a Concièrge stood betwixt me and admission, I could not resist the desire to pursue the research still further. Once let yourself loose upon adventure, particularly on your first evening in a strange city, and you are as little affected by compunction as a professed detective. I resolved upon bold measures, and in pursuance thereof marched straight up to the gate, and had one leg within the wicket before the star-gazer recovered sufficient consciousness to demand what I wanted. Now, when a man has one foot on incontestible right, aud the other on debateable ground, his faculties become wonderfully

Guissac sat some distance apart, with his elbow on the table, pricking the back of his hand with the bristles of his beard, and seeming to enjoy the titilation. He was contemplating the affliction of his daughter, whatever might be its cause, with wondrous indifference. He was watching it, however, but merely as a man watches the rain and waits till it is over.

Many minutes thus continued-the half-stifled weeping on the one hand, the careless titilation on the other. But there was one member of the little group more inclined to break the monotony. Like Bruce's spider, persisting in spite of

defeat, the little white kitten, by dint of a daring | house. As his daughter, the young man will effort, reached the goal of its ambition, and, show you all respect, and when M. Biot has done lightly traversing the reclining figure, sought with him you will return to your old father amid the rich dark locks that covered them, the again. That is easier than making gold-lace, is hands that were wont to feed and fondle it. To it not? and instead of sitting to be painted you such puny efforts do I owe my first view of a will only have to sit and listen to compliments. face which reduced all my preconceived ideal of Your whole work will consist in being amiable beauty to crude imperfection. It possessed all to the young gentleman-a little loving, you the statuesque regularity of the Greek type, know. Think of having your own boudoir to and withal had a special and individual ex- sit in, and your own servant to wait on you, and pression, in which its loveliness and life consisted nothing to do but look your best when he far more than in the faultlessness of its outline. comes, and always ask him back again, when he The warm blush on the cheek, and the emotional goes away. Besides, he's very young, and very quivering of the nostril would alone have re- handsome too: fair hair, blue eyes, tall figure, deemed it from being the passionless revival of | &c., &c, a dead type; but it was in the softened, starlike brightness of the eyes that the secret of her beauty lay. Lit up as they were with emotion when first I gazed upon her, they did not flash with bold brilliance, but seemed, like the stars, ever striving to subdue their own brightness. This, with the flower-like drooping of the head, and the rich chevelure, which with every movement brought alternate revelation and concealment, surrounded her with a far more special charm than ever attends the unclouded blaze of conscious beauty. When she half-raised herself to repel the rather annoying advances of the unreflecting favourite, there was on her face the burning glow of shame, instead of the pallor of grief which I would have looked for, after her deep, half-stifled sobbing. Could it be that the explanation of the group before me, made up of so strangely dissimilar members, was to be found in the appearance of an erring daughter at the tribunal of a righteous father? Could the physical seeming so strangly belie the moral attribute that this hideous type of humanity should be the moral hero of the scene, and this shrine of beauty the abode of guilt? Let us hear them.

GUISSAC.-"Come, Stephanie, you are overdoing it. What are you afraid of, girl? It's the simplest thing in the world. M. Biot will tell all the lies for you, and you and I will get all the profit. And think of being a lady, if only for a time! I wish your poor mother were alive yet!

STEPHANIE." Would to Heaven she were alive to join with me in beseeching you to think no more of this! Oh! father, father! how can you speak of her, as if her spirit were not even at this moment calling to me to avoid this infamy! And oh, believe me--if there is any truth in all you have so often told me of your wishes for my happiness-believe that this will not promote it! If ten times the sum were offered I would cast it aside as no element of happiness. We are not in want, but if you are not satisfied with what I earn, I will work harder-harder still. I will even yield to you what I once opposed. I will sit to these horrid artists. I will do anything-anything; but save me from this infamy!"

GUISSAC.-"What infamy, child? You will be as safe with M. Biot as in your father's

STEPHANIE [crimsoning more deeply than ever].-"You have strangely mistaken me, father. I know there is something underneath all thissome net of danger winding round him. No, father! I will have no part in this! I will not be an instrument in the hands of another to accomplish I know not what. I believe I would be secure from injury, but I virtually lay down my own character when I take up another. How shall Adrienne Biot re-adopt the principles from which Stephanie Guissac shall have departed? Ah, father, it is myself I fear. Once in the crooked paths, who will guide me? How shall I guide myself? Oh, my mother! my mother! And he, poor victim, what may not my deception bring upon him? Though I be silent, my very silence is deceit. My every action would be deceit. Father, relieve me from the necessity of disobeying you! Say you will go no farther in this!-oh say it!"

her knees before the hideous idol, and gazed up And the beautiful creature flung herself on on the grim visage with a look of entreaty that might have charmed stubborn Baal back from a journey. Even Guissac, though he looked the part of the savage father to perfection, and might have been expected, in fulfilment of his physiognomy, to have flung her from him, hesiwith a certain degree of mildness, though little tated long; and when he did speak, replied sympathy.

"It must be done, child," said he; "I could not unsay it if I would."

"Why not, father?" asked Stephanie. "Am I not your child? Have you not more right to me than any other-than M. Biot? What have you done, what new necessity has come upon you that you must thus sell your daughter for gold?"

"Gold!" shouted Guissac, starting up suddenly, as if the word had excited him-"Gold! ha! ha! Do not speak of gold! Do not name the word. No it is not for his gold. I know where-but no, do not mention that ... Gold! If the arms were not round it, holding it thus, thus-the skeleton arms thus!. .. Who told you of that?" he shouted; and, springing at the astonished girl, he seized her by the shoulder, and shook her violently.

"Told me of what, father?" asked she, trembling.

"The gold and the skeleton arms! You know you did not see them! Who- toldyou? What was that your mother was whispering to you the day she died? Only she and M. Biot-oh, would he were dead too!....see Hush! For the love of God do not say a word! Look! look! the window it has been left open !"

And uttering this last sentence in a succession of gasps, he moved slowly backwards towards his chair, into which he sank, still gazing fully at the open window.

"Oh mon Dieu! mon Dieu!" was all that Stephanie, pale and quivering from head to foot, seemed able to utter, as she stood gazing with terrible awe on the strange agitation of her father.

At length the continued fixity of his gaze towards the one spot seemed to have a mesmeric effect, as his eyes gradually closed; seeing which, as if suddenly recalled to individuality, Stephanie moved rapidly past him towards the window. But the rustling of her dress startled his slumbering consciousness. Again he started up, exclaiming, as he again seized her, but not so rudely as before," Back! do not go there! What were you about to do?"

door, and bore themselves directly toward the spot where I had deemed myself safe. Guissac pushed a small gate in the railing which I had not perceived, and entered the garden. I could immediately that he was stealthily making the circuit of it, scrutinizing every tree and bush. Fortunately for me the direction of his orbit took him in the first instance gradually away from my place of concealment; but I felt that this was only a respite, and began to entertain sefear-rious thoughts of escape. I had observed, just before entering, a window, which, projecting from the principal roof, gave immediately upon a lower roof, which sloped down to the streetwall. I suddenly recollected it, and only waiting till I could distinguish the dark figure of Gussiac at the farther end of the garden, I passed quietly through the open gate, and having reached the window which had already stood me in so good stead, pushed open the unresisting Venetian blinds, and in a moment was in the house. I threaded my way up the dark stairs and through several rooms, steering, under the unaided influence of my bump of locality for the window I had before observed. I reached it, and my escape was easy and unadventurous, save that, just as I was in the act of emerging, a faint scream, issuing from a bed which I had hurriedly passed, though scarce noticing it in the darkness of the chamber-a scream, in which I recognized the voice of Stephanie, set the final spur to my exit, and made me aware of the dreadful profanation into which my curiosity had led me. I hurried down the sloping roof, gained the street-wall, and was on the ground in an instant. Another, and I was beyond pursuit, in less deserted streets, mingling with the many now hurrying home from their brief enjoyment. At length I came again upon the scene which, but an hour ago, had been bright and beautiful as the dreams of an eastern poet. It was almost deserted by the Ste-living, and the beauty of the spectacle was gone. Most of the lights were spent, and those that remained were flickering fitfully in long, straggling, attenuated ranks, like the weary, disunited remnants of a routed host. What had been gorgeous palaces, triumphal arches, and tasteful arcades, seemed now but fire-scathed and smouldering ruins. The ingenious mottoes and devices that had been traced in living flame, were now meaningless and absurd, like the wisdom of the wise dying into the idiotcy of age.

"Only to close the window, father," said Stephanie, gently.

"And why close the window? Can men hear our dreams? Open it- wider; and the door, too. Give me air-air! I am glad you woke me!" he added, in a subdued voice. "I have dreamed horribly! But you look pale and ill, child! Shall I take you to see the illumination? No, it will be almost over now: but you have seen it already-bold little thing, to go out alone! You didn't expect your father so soon, did you? He knew where to find you, though. He knew you would be on the side nearest home. I knew you by your veil. I knew that none but my own modest phanie would hide her face from the pretty light. But go to bed, child; you are weary, and do not blame your poor father. Remember, he must obey what M. Biot commands!"

Stephanie moved slowly towards the door, stopping several times, and looking vacantly towards her father in strange bewilderment. I withdrew from my position as soon as I saw her disappear, feeling sure that Guissac's next step would be to ascertain whether or not the open window which seemed to have so scared him had been taken advantage of. The court in which I had taken up my position was not, as is the case with most of the houses in Paris, surrounded on all sides with building; but, on the side facing the street-gate, was terminated by a garden fenced off by a low railing. This I gained by a few hasty steps, and, vaulting over the railing, found myself in the cool obscurity of a perfect thicket of laurels. From my concealment I could see Guissac thrust his head out of the window, and peer searchingly into the gloom of night. Then the head was withdrawn, and presently both head and body reappeared at the

But my thoughts were busy on another and more personal subject.

What is this that has changed me so? What unaccustomed hue is this that my life and prospects have assumed? What is this, called womanhood, that it should so suddenly become to me the only desirable thing in the universethe only thing worth struggling for, triumphing for, dying for? "What's Hecuba to me, or I to Hecuba?" Can I no longer, as hitherto, live, and labour, and rejoice in my strength, without the response of loving eyes, and the