But Henrietta belonged to a great house; she was the daughter of a man who had filled a high position; she was immensely rich; and, even if he had married her only with her own fortune, she would have brought him ten times as much as he had.  Daniel did not want Henrietta, on the blessed day when she should become his own, to have any thing to wish for or to regret.  Hence he worked incessantly, indefatigably, waking up every morning anew with the determination to make himself one of those names which weigh more than the oldest parchments, and to win one of those positions which make a wife as proud as she is fond of her husband.  Fortunately, the times were favorable to his ambition.  The French navy was in a state of transformation; but the marine was as yet unreformed, waiting, apparently, for the hand of a man of genius.

And why might not he be that man?  Supported by his love, he saw nothing impossible in that thought, and fancied he could overcome all obstacles.

“Do you see that d——­ little fellow, there, with his quiet ways?” said Admiral Penhoel to his young officers.  “Well, look at him; he’ll checkmate you all.”

Daniel was busy in his study, finishing a paper for the minister, when the count’s servant came and brought him Henrietta’s letter.  He knew that something extraordinary must have happened to induce Henrietta, with her usual reserve, to take such a step, and, above all, to write to him in such brief but urgent terms.

“Has any thing happened at the house?” he asked the servant.

“No, sir, not that I know.”

“The count is not sick?”

“No, sir.”

“And Miss Henrietta?”

“My mistress is perfectly well.”

Daniel breathed more freely.

“Tell Miss Henrietta I am coming at once; and make haste, or I shall be there before you.”

As soon as the servant had left, Daniel dressed, and a moment later he was out of the house.  As he walked rapidly up the street in which the count lived, he thought,—­

“I have no doubt taken the alarm too soon; perhaps she has only some commission for me.”

But he was beset with dark presentiments, and had to tell himself that that was not likely to be the case.  He felt worse than ever, when, upon being shown into the drawing-room, he saw Henrietta sitting by the fire, deadly pale, with her eyes all red and inflamed from weeping.

“What is the matter with you?” he cried, without waiting for the door to be closed behind him.  “What has happened?”

“Something terrible, M. Daniel.”

“Tell me, pray, what.  You frighten me.”

“My father is going to marry again.”

At first Daniel was amazed.  Then, recalling at once the gradual transformation of the count, he said,—­

“Oh, oh, oh!  That explains every thing.”

But Henrietta interrupted him; and, making a great effort, she repeated to him in a half-stifled voice almost literally her conversation with her father.  When she had ended, Daniel said,—­