“A man?”

“Yes,—­M.  Daniel Champcey.”

Henrietta felt as if a sharp knife had been plunged into her bosom.

“I do not understand you, sir,” she said.

He, shrugging his shoulders, and assuming an air of commiseration, went on,—­

“What?  You will not understand that Sarah is your rival; that she has loved M. Champcey; that she is still madly in love with him?  Ah! they have deceived Mrs. Brian and myself cruelly.”

“How so?”

He turned his head aside, and murmured, as if speaking to himself,—­

“-------- -------- was her lover.”

Miss Ville-Handry discerned the truth with admirable instinct, drew herself up, and said in her most energetic way,—­

“That is false!”

Sir Thorn trembled; but that was all.

“You have asked me to tell the truth,” he said coldly, “and I have done so.  Try to remember.  Have you forgotten that little scene, after which M. Champcey fled from our house in the middle of the night, bareheaded, without taking his overcoat?”

“Sir?”

“Did you not think that was extraordinary?  That night, you see, we discovered the whole thing.  After having been one of the foremost to recommend to Sarah to marry your father, M. Champcey came and asked her to give up that marriage.  He had, before that, tried to have it broken off through your agency, madam, using thus his influence over you, his betrothed, for the benefit of his passion.”

“Ah!  You lie impudently, sir!” said Henrietta.

To this charge, which fell like a blow upon his face, he only replied,—­

“I have proofs.”

“What proofs?”

“Letters written by M. Champcey to Sarah.  I have obtained two; and I have them here in my pocket-book.”

He put at the same time his hand to his pocket.  She stopped him.

“These letters would prove nothing to me, sir.”

“But”—­

She cast a withering glance at him, and said, in a voice of unbearable contempt,—­

“Those who have sent a letter to the Navy Department, which pretended to have been written by Daniel, cannot find any difficulty in imitating his signature.  Let us break off here, sir.  I forbid you ever to speak to me again.”

M. Elgin laughed in a terrible way.

“That is your last word?” he asked.

Instead of answering him, she drew a step aside, thus opening the way to the door, at which she pointed with her finger.

“Well,” said Sir Thorn with an accent of fierce threatening, “remember this; I have sworn you shall be my wife, whether you will or not; and my wife you shall be!”

“Leave the room, sir, or I must give it up to you!”