“At all events, in less than a week after his disappearance, it was reported everywhere, that I, Sarah Brandon, had been an accomplice of this defaulter, and, worse than that, that the sums he had stolen might easily be found, if a certain bureau in my bedchamber could be searched.

“Yes, that is what they said, at first in a whisper and most cautiously, then louder, and finally openly, and before all the world.

“Soon the papers took it up.  They repeated the facts, arranging them to suit their purpose, and alluding to me in a thousand infamous innuendoes.  They said that Malgat’s defalcation was after the American style, and that it was perfectly natural he should go to a foreign country, after having been associated with a certain foreign lady.”

She had become crimson all over; her bosom rose; and shame, indignation, and resentment alternately appeared on her face, changing finally into an ardent desire of vengeance.

“We, in the meantime,” she continued, “quiet and safe in our honesty, did not even suspect these infamous proceedings.  It is true, I had been struck by some strange whisperings, by curious looks and singular smiles, when I passed some of my friends; but I had not noticed them specially.

“A paper which had been left at the house one afternoon, when we were out, showed us the true state of things.  It was a summons.  I was ordered to appear before a magistrate.

“It was a thunderbolt.  Mad with wrath and grief, M. Elgin swore I should not go, that he would most assuredly find out the authors of this infamous libel, and that, in the meantime, he would challenge and kill every one who dared repeat it.

“In vain did Mrs. Brian and myself beseech him, on our knees, not to leave the house until he had grown cooler.  He pushed us aside almost with brutality, and rushed out, taking with him the papers and letters written by Malgat.

“We were at the end of our endurance, having suffered all the tortures of anxiety, when, at last, near midnight, M. Elgin returned, pale, exhausted, and distressed.  He had found no one willing even to listen to him; everybody telling him that he was much too good to give a thought to such infamous reports; that they were too absurd to be believed.”

She nearly gave way, sobs intercepting her words; but she mastered her emotion, and continued,—­

“The next day I went to the court-house; and, after being kept waiting for a long time in a dark passage, I was brought before the magistrate.  He was an elderly man, with hard features and piercing eyes, who received me almost brutally, as if I had been a criminal.  But, when I had shown him the letters which you have just read, his manner suddenly changed, pity got the better of him; and I thought I saw a tear in his eye.  Ah!  I shall be eternally grateful to him for the words he said when I left his office,—­

“’Poor, poor young girl!  Justice bows reverently before your innocence.  Would to God that the world could be made to do the same!’”