happen, and whatever force they may choose to employ, I shall never
belong to any one but to you."

Daniel had seized her hand, and held it for some time pressed to his
lips. At last, when his rapture gave way to calmer thoughts, he said,--

"I must leave you at once, Henrietta, if I want to catch Maxime."

As he left, his head was in a whirl, his thoughts in a maze. His life
and his happiness were at stake; and a single word would decide his fate
in spite of all he could do.

A cab was passing; he hailed it, jumped in, and cried to the driver,--

"Go quick, I say! You shall have five francs! No. 61 Rue Laffitte!"

That was the house where Maxime de Brevan lived.

He was a man of thirty or thirty-five years, remarkably well made,
light-haired, wearing a full beard, with a bright eye, and pleasing
face. Mixing on intimate terms with the men who make up what is called
high life, and with whom pleasure is the only occupation, he was very
popular with them all. They said he was a man that could always be
relied upon, at all times ready to render you a service when it was
in his power, a pleasant companion, and an excellent second whenever a
friend had to fight a duel.

In fine, neither slander nor calumny had ever attacked his reputation.
And yet, far from following the advice of the philosopher, who tells us
to keep our life from the eye of the public, Maxime de Brevan seemed to