Then it was that a brilliant idea came into my brain.  It was born on the very day that I realized with indisputable certainty that the lovely Leah was not in reality in love with Rochez.  He fatuously believed that she was ready to fall into his arms, that only maidenly timidity held her back, and that the moment she had been snatched from her father’s house and found herself in the arms of her adoring lover, she would turn to him in the very fullness of love and confidence.

But I knew better.  I had caught a look now and again—­an undefinable glance, which told me the whole pitiable tale.  She did not love Rochez; and in the drama which we were preparing to enact the curtain would fall on his rapture and her unhappiness.

Ah, Sir! imagine what my feelings were when I realized this!  This fair girl, against whom we were all conspiring like so many traitors, was still ignorant of the fatal brink on which she stood.  She chatted and coquetted and smiled, little dreaming that in a very few days her happiness would be wrecked and she would be linked for life to a man whom she could never love.  Rochez’s idea, of course, was primarily to get hold of her fortune.  I had already ascertained for him, through the ever-willing Sarah, that this fortune came from Leah’s grandfather, who had left a sum of two hundred thousand francs on trust for her children, she to enjoy the income for her life.  There certainly was a clause in the will whereby the girl would forfeit that fortune if she married without her father’s consent; but according to Rochez’s plans this could scarcely be withheld once she had been taken forcibly away from home, held in durance, and with her reputation hopelessly compromised.  She could then pose as an injured victim, throw herself at her father’s feet, and beg him to give that consent without which she would for ever remain an outcast of society, a pariah amongst her kind.

A pretty piece of villainous combination, you will own!  And I, Sir, was to lend a hand in this abomination!—­nay, I was to be the chief villain in the drama!  It was I who, even now, was spending the hours of the night, when I might have been dreaming sentimental dreams, in oiling the lock of the postern gate which was to give us access into papa Goldberg’s garden.  It was I who, under cover of darkness and guided by that old jade Sarah, was to sneak into that garden on the appointed night and forcibly seize the unsuspecting maiden and carry her to the carriage which Rochez would have in readiness for her.

You see what a coward he was!  It was a criminal offence in those days, punishable with deportation to New Caledonia, to abduct a young lady from her parents’ house; and Rochez left me the dirty work to do in case the girl screamed and attracted the police.  Now you will tell me if I was not justified in doing what I did, and I will abide by your judgment.