“What are we to do with the money?” she demanded.

“Restore it to M. Fauvel, mademoiselle.”

“We restore it, monsieur, and how?  Restoring the money is denouncing Raoul, and ruining my aunt.  Take back your money, monsieur.  We will not touch it.”

Clameran was too shrewd to insist; he took up the money, and prepared to leave.

“I comprehend your refusal, mademoiselle, and must find another way of accomplishing my wish.  But, before retiring, let me say that your injustice pains me deeply.  After the promise you made to me, I had reason to hope for a kinder welcome.”

“I will keep my promise, monsieur; but not until you have furnished security.”

“Security!  And for what?  Pray, explain yourself.”

“Something to protect my aunt against the molestations of Raoul after my—­marriage.  What is to prevent his coming to extort money from his mother after he has squandered my dowry?  A man who spends a hundred thousand francs in four months will soon run through my little fortune.  We are making a bargain; I give you my hand in exchange for the honor and life of my aunt; and of course you must give me some guarantee to secure the performance of your promise.”

“Oh!  I will give you ample securities,” cried Clameran, “such as will quiet all your suspicious doubts of my good faith.  Alas! you will not believe in my devotion; what shall I do to convince you of its sincerity?  Shall I try to save M. Bertomy?”

“Thanks for the offer, monsieur,” replied Madeleine disdainfully; “if Prosper is guilty, let him be punished by the law; if he is innocent, God will protect him.”

Here Madeleine stood up, to signify that the interview was over.

Clameran bowed, and left the room.

“What pride!  What determination!  The idea of her demanding securities of me!” he said to himself as he slowly walked away.  “But the proud girl shall be humbled yet.  She is so beautiful! and, if I did not so madly love her, I would kill her on the spot!”

Never had Clameran been so irritated.

Madeleine’s quiet determination and forethought had unexpectedly thrown him off his well-laid track; not anticipating any such self assertion on her part, he was disconcerted, and at a loss how to proceed.

He knew that it would be useless to attempt deceiving a girl of Madeleine’s character a second time; he saw that she had penetrated his motives sufficiently to put her on the defensive, and prepare her for any new surprise.  Moreover, she would prevent Mme. Fauvel from being frightened and forced into submission any longer.

With mortification and rage, Louis saw that after all his plotting, when success was in his reach, when his hopes were almost crowned, he had been foiled and scornfully set at defiance by a girl:  the whole thing would have to be gone over again.

Although Madeleine had resigned herself to sacrifice, it was still evident that she had no idea of doing so blindly, and would not hazard her aunt’s and her own happiness upon the uncertainty of a verbal promise.