“You want to leave me, then, Rosalie?” said I, when we were alone.

“Yes, dearest, but it will not be for long.”

“I think we shall never see each other again.”

“Why not, dearest?  You have only to remain faithful to me.  Listen to me.  Your honour and my own make it imperative that I should convince Petri that I am not with child by him, and you that I am with child by you.”

“I never doubted it, dear Rosalie.”

“Yes, dear, you doubted it once and that is enough.  Our parting will cost me many a bitter tear, but these pangs are necessary to my future happiness.  I hope you will write to me, and after the child is born it will be for you to decide on how I shall rejoin you.  If I am not pregnant I will rejoin you in a couple of months at latest.”

“Though I may grieve at your resolve I will not oppose it, for I promised I would never cross you.  I suppose you will go into a convent; and the marquis must find you a suitable one, and protect you like a father.  Shall I speak to him on the subject?  I will leave you as much money as you will want.”

“That will not be much.  As for M. de Grimaldi, he is bound in honour to procure me an asylum.  I don’t think it will be necessary for you to speak to him about it.”

She was right, and I could not help admiring the truly astonishing tact of this girl.

In the morning I heard that the self-styled Ivanoff had made his escape an hour before the police were to arrest him at the suit of the banker, who had found out that one of the bills he had presented was forged.  He had escaped on foot, leaving all his baggage behind him.

Next day the marquis came to tell Rosalie that his godson had no objection to make to her plan.  He added that the young man hoped she would become his wife, whether the child proved to be his or not.

“He may hope as much as he likes,” said Rosalie, with a smile.

“He also hopes that you will allow him to call on you now and then.  I have spoken to my kinswoman, the mother-superior of convent.  You are to have two rooms, and a very good sort of woman is to keep you company, wait on you, and nurse you when the time comes.  I have paid the amount you are to pay every month for your board.  Every morning I will send you a confidential man, who will see your companion and will bring me your orders.  And I myself will come and see you at the grating as often as you please.”

It was then my sad duty, which the laws of politeness enjoined, to thank the marquis for his trouble.

“’Tis to you, my lord,” said I, “I entrust Rosalie.  I am placing her, I am sure, in good hands.  I will go on my way as soon as she is in the convent; I hope you will write a letter to the mother-superior for her to take.”

“I will write it directly,” said he.

And as Rosalie had told him before that she would pay for everything herself, he gave her a written copy of the agreement he had made.