saw around him, whilst of those who had pre-weed. This pavilion, described by the Petites served their vizards he could fix on none as object Affiches as fraîchement décoré—the said decoration of suspicion. So soon as he could extricate him- consisting in fresh paint and paper, and in a profusion self from the crowd, he unfolded the paper. It of that cheerful French luxury, large and excelcontained the following mysterious words, hastilylent mirrors-was rented for six months by Baron scrawled with a pencil :

One whom you think asleep wakes and watches. He is here; has followed and overheard you, and will seek revenge. Be prepared. Proof is difficult; denial may be safety. Adopt it at all risks. Masked, the sisters are undistinguishable. Credit this warning from a sincere friend.

Thrice the Hungarian perused this mysterious billet; and then, thrusting it into the breast of his richly braided jacket, slowly left the house.

CHAPTER III.-THE ACCUSATION.

Steinfeld, who had hired for the same period, from a fashionable upholsterer-for a sum which would almost have furnished the house permanently in a plainer manner-a complete set of furniture, against whose perfect elegance and good taste not a syllable could be breathed. His establishment was as correct as his residence. It consisted, in the first place, of a French cook, with whose sauces Arthur de Mellay had repeatedly expressed his willingness to eat a fragment of his father; which offer-considering the worthy count had been a guardsman in the time of Louis XVI., and, consequently, was neither young nor tender THE house selected by Baron Ernest von Stein- -was certainly a high testimonial to the merits feld, wherein to pass what might possibly be his of sauce and cook. Then came an Italian valet, last season in Paris, was situated in the Rue St. quite as skilful a personage in his way as the proLazare. It was one of those buildings, of frequent fessor of gastronomic science--speaking three or occurrence in modern Parisian architecture, which four languages, accumulating in his own individuseem intended to gratify the taste of such persons ality the knowledge and acquirements of a legion as prefer the English fashion of occupying an en- of hairdressers, perfumers, and the like-thortire house, to the French one of dwelling upon a oughly versed in the arcana of the toilet, a secrefloor. At the bottom of a paved court-yard, tary in case of need, and a perfect Mercury in around three sides of which was built a large matters of intrigue. The third person of Steinmansion containing many tenants, stood one of feld's household, the last, and also by much the those edifices known in French parlance as pavil- least-physically speaking, that is to say, but by ions not that they possess a dome, resemble a no means in his own estimation-was one of those tent, or, for the most part, have any of the quali-miniature tigers, (copied from the English, and ties of a summer-house, but because, in Paris, the essential appendages to the establishment of a Paris term "house" is grudgingly bestowed upon a lion,) who look as if they had been subjected to building of less than five stories and thirty or forty that curious Chinese process by which lofty shrubs This pavilion had but three stories and a and forest trees are stunted to dimensions that perdozen rooms; it was a particularly complete and mit the plantation of a grove in a flower-potindependent habitation, standing well back from wizen-faced, top-booted abortions, uniting the misthe body of the house, under whose number it was chief and the proportions of a monkey, and frightincluded, and of which, although detached, it was fully precocious in every species of villany. The considered to form part; and having two entrances, house also contained, during the day, an old one through the court, the other from a lane run- Frenchwoman, of a species indigenous and conning at right angles with the street. The ground- fined to Paris-the patient butt of the cook's illfloor contained, besides a light and commodious humors and of the groom's pranks, with bearded vestibule and servants' offices, only one apartment, chin and slipshod feet, and willing for any sort of a handsome dining-room, in which, however, it dirty work, from the scouring of a kettle to the was impossible, for three quarters of the year, to administration of the remedy renowned in French dine without lamps-the daylight admitted by its pharmacy. one broad window being greatly limited by the It was an hour past noon on the day succeeding walls of a nook of garden, and by the impending the Countess of M- -'s masquerade, and Steinbrauches of a laburnum and acacia, which mingled feld sat alone at breakfast. It were more correct their boughs in affectionate union, twin lords of a to say that he sat at the breakfast table; for the square yard of grass, and of a fathom's length of savory meal before him was still untasted, and he flower-bed, and in the spring-time rejoiced the in- seemed in no haste to attack it. In vain the green mates of the pavilion with the odorous rustle of oysters from Ostend lay invitingly open, and one their yellow clusters and rose-colored blossoms. of the Chevet's pies displayed, through a trianguThe first floor contained two pleasant drawing-lar aperture in its crust, the tender tints of an rooms and a boudoir; the second, bath, bed, and dressing-rooms. The roof, flat and surrounded by a parapet, commanded a view over the adjacent gardens of an extensive bathing establishment and maison de santé, and was no unpleasant resort, on a fine day, for persons desirous to inhale the fresh air, or to scent it with the fumes of Havana's

rooms.

exquisite foie-gras-the result of the martyrdom of some unhappy Strasburg duck; in vain a fragrant steam of truffles oozed from beneath the covers of two silver dishes, fresh from the laboratory of Macedoine the cook, and mingled its odors with the flowery aroma of a bottle of Sauterne, from which Rufini the valet had just extracted the

long yellow-sealed cork. Apparently, none of | ferent origin-one similar to the cause by which, these creature-comforts dwelt in the desires of the some fifteen hours previously, we saw Sigismund baron, who sat sideways to the table, his chin Fatello so deeply moved. The baron turned and resting on his hand, gazing upon vacancy with an twisted in his hand a letter, to whose contents he intenseness bespeaking deep preoccupation. One again and again recurred, pondering them intentacquainted with Steinfeld's circumstances would ly. Like that received by the banker, the billet have hesitated little in conjecturing the nature of was anonymous; like his, it contained but three the unpleasant reflections in which he seemed or four lines; but, despite its brevity and want of absorbed. They might very well have for motive authenticity, it proved, on the part of the writer, the unprosperous state of his exchequer, the heavy whoever that might be, an acquaintance with the incumbrances weighing upon the hereditary acres, baron's most important secret, that did not fail the approaching decease of that convenient but greatly to disquiet him. Who had thus detected fickle ally, on whose succor half the world exist, what he deemed so surely concealed? He strained and whose name is credit. The baron had been his eyes and memory, in vain endeavoring to reanything but a prudent man. Too careless of the cognize the handwriting; and, more than once future, he had neglected fortune when she offered fancying he had done so, he fetched notes and herself to his embrace; and now she revenged letters from a desk in the adjoining boudoir, to herself by averting her countenance. Of high compare them with the anonymous epistle. But descent and fair estate, handsome person and fasci- the comparison always dissipated his suspicion. nating manners, for some years Steinfeld might Then, taking a pen, and a dimunitive sheet of have aspired to the hand of almost any heiress in amber-scented paper, he began a note, but tore Vienna or Paris. Numerous were the matrimo- the paper after writing only three words, and nial overtures that had been more or less directly threw the fragments impatiently into the fire. made to him, at a time when, in love with his Just then the pavilion bell rang loudly; the next bachelorhood, and celebrated for his bonnes for-minute there was a knock at the room door, and tunes, he looked upon the bonds of hymen as the Celestin the tiger made his appearance, bearing a most oppressive of fetters, intolerable even when card inscribed. with the name of M. Sigismund sheathed in gold. The matchmakers, repulsed | Fatello, and an inquiry whether Monsieur le without exception, at last renounced all further Baron was at home and visible. attempts upon the hand of the handsome Austrian On reading the banker's name, Steinfeld made -as Steinfeld was generally called in Paris- a slight and sudden movement, almost amounting and declared him an incorrigible partisan of celi- to a start, but, instantly recovering himself, he bacy. To the unmolested enjoyment of his bach-bade his groom show the visitor up stairs. At elor bliss the baron was for some years left, until the same time he hastily seated himself, ordered one morning he awoke to the disagreeable con- Rufini to take off the covers, poured some wine sciousness that profuse expenditure had, done its into a glass, and helped himself from the first dish work, and that ruin or a rich marriage were the that came to hand; so that when Fatello, ushered only alternatives left him. He was fully alive to in by the groom, entered the apartment, he had the difficulties placed in the way of the latter by all the appearance of one whose whole faculthe change in his circumstances. His ancient ties were concentrated, for the time being, in the name and personal advantages remained, but his enjoyment of an excellent meal. Rising from his fair estate was in the hands of the harpies; and chair, with an air of jovial cordiality, he hastened however disposed romantic young ladies might be to welcome the banker. to overlook this misfortune, prudent papas would dcem it a serious stumbling-block. Then it was that, roused by horrid visions of approaching poverty from his usual state of happy insouciance, the baron gathered together the relics of his past opulence, squeezed and exhausted every remaining resource, and, assuming a bold front against bad fortune, returned to Paris, with much the feelings of a soldier who screws up all his energies to conquer or to die. It was no apprehension, however, as to the result of this final struggleno nervous trepidation arising from the imminence of his situation, that now clouded Steinfeld's brow and spoiled his appetite. On the contrary he deemed victory secure, and beheld himself, in no remote perspective, emerging triumphantly from his difficulties, even as a snake, casting its shabby skin, reappears in glittering scales of gold. He had not wasted the three months he had passed in Paris, and was well satisfied with the result of his exertions. His present uneasiness had a dif

"An unexpected pleasure, my dear Fatello," said he. "What favorable chance procures me so early a visit? You are come to breakfast, I hope. Rufini, a knife and fork for M. Fatello." "I have breakfasted, M. le Baron," replied Fatello, with a dryness amounting almost to incivility. "If my call is untimely, my business is pressing- -and private," he added, with a glance at the Italian, who stood in respectful immobility behind his master's chair.

"Leave the room, Rufini," said Steinfeld. The well-drilled valet bowed in silence, and glided noiselessly from the apartment.

Now, then, my good friend," said the Austrian, in the same gay, off-hand tone as before, "I am all ear and attention. What is up? Nothing bad, I hope; nothing so serious as to spoil my appetite. I have heard a proverb condemning discourse between a full man and a hungry one."

Fatello made no immediate reply. There was something very peculiar in his aspect. His lips

were pale and compressed, and his brow slightly knit. He seemed constraining himself to silence until he felt he could speak calmly on a subject which roused anger and indignation in his breast. Whilst seemingly engrossed by his breakfast, Steinfeld lost not a look or motion of his visitor's, not a line of his physiognomy, or a glance of his small piercing eye. And the baron, notwithstanding his assumed careless levity of manner, did not feel altogether at his ease.

66

"In hussar uniform-crimson vest and white pelisse."

Steinfeld bowed assent.

"The uniform of the regiment to which I formerly belonged." "A black domino was on your arm."

"Ma foi!" cried the baron, with a laugh that sounded rather forced, "if you demand an account of all the masks I walked and danced with, I shall hardly be able to satisfy you. Dominos there were, doubtless; and, of all colors, black amongst the rest."

"You equivocate, sir," said Fatello, angrily. "I will aid your memory. The domino I mean was your companion early in the night. The domino I mean danced once with you, (a waltz,) and afterwards walked with you through the rooms, in deep conversation. The domino I mean stood with you for more than ten minutes beside the fountain in the conservatory. The domino I mean was my wife; and you, Baron Steinfeld, are a villain !"

"You have not turned conspirator, I hope," said he, when Fatello, after a short but awkward pause, still remained silent. No Henri-quinquist plot, or plan to restore the glorious days of the guillotine and the Goddess of Liberty? No, no; a Croesus of your calibre, my dear Fatello, would not mix in such matters. Your plotters are hungry dogs, with more debts than ducats. Talking of hunger-I am grieved you have breakfasted. This mushroom omelet does honor to Macedoine." The baron would have talked on-for at that moment any sort of babble seemed to him preferable to silence. But Fatello, who had not heard a word he had said, suddenly rose from his seat, rested his hands upon the table, and leaning forward, with eyes sternly fixed upon Steinfeld, uttered these remarkable words, in tones rendered harsh and grating by the effort that made them calin : "Monsieur le Baron de Steinfeld, you are recumbent position. But the baron was a man of courting my wife!"

During this singular conversation Steinfeld had sat, leaning back in his large elbow-chair, in an attitude of easy indifference-one slippered foot thrown carelessly over the other, and his hands thrust into the pockets of his damask dressing-gown. On receiving this last outrageous insult, his lip blanched with passion, his whole person quivered as with an electric shock, and he half rose from his semi

vast self-command; one of those cool-headed, coolThe most expert physiognomist would have hearted egotists who rarely act upon impulse, or failed to detect upon the countenance of the ex- compromise their interests by ill-timed impetuosity. diplomatist any other expression than one of pro- The first choleric movement, prompting him to found astonishment, tinged by that glow of indig-throw Fatello down stairs, was checked with wonnation an innocent man would be likely to feel at derful promptitude, and with little appearance of an unfounded accusation, abruptly and 'brutally effort. In reality, however, the effort was a viobrought. After sustaining for a few seconds Fa- lent one. As a soldier at the triangles bites a tello's fixed and angry gaze, his features relaxed bullet with the rage of pain, so Steinfeld clenched into a slightly contemptuous smile. his hands till the strong sharp nails almost cut into the palm. As he did so, a paper in his pocket rustled against his knuckles. It was the note so mysteriously conveyed to him at the masquerade, and which he had been pondering when Fatello was announced. mere touch of the paper was as suggestive as a volume of sage counsels. In an instant every sign of annoyance disappeared from his features; he rose quietly from his seat, and with easy dignity and an urbane countenance, confronted Fatello, who stood gloomy and lowering before the fire.

"The jest is surely in questionable taste, my dear M. Fatello. And the severity of your countenance might alarm a man with a conscience less clear than mine."

"I jest not, sir, with my honor and happiness," retorted Fatello, with a rude fierceness that brought a flush to the baron's cheek-a flame of anger which the next moment, however, dispelled."

Then, my dear M. Fatello," said Steinfeld, "since, instead of a bad jest, you mean sober earnest, I can only say you are grossly misinformed, and that your suspicions are as injurious to Madame Fatello, as your manner of expressing them is insulting to myself."

"I have no suspicions," replied Fatello, "but a certainty."

Impossible !" said the baron. "Name my He shall account for the base calumny." "He desires no better," replied Fatello, steruly. "I myself accuse you. No slanderous tongues, but my own ears, are evidence against you. And yourself, sir, shall confess what you now so stubboruly deny. You were at last night's masquerade." "I was so."

To one so quick-witted, the

"I see, M. Fatello," he said, "that you are bent upon our cutting each other's throats; but, strange as it may seem, after the terms you have, employed, I still hope to avert the unpleasant necessity. For one moment moderate your language, and give me time for brief explanation. If I rightly understand you, it is from your own observations you thus accuse me; and I presume you did me the honor of a personal surveillance at last night's ball?"

Fatello, his violence checked for the moment from further outbreak, by the baron's courtesy and coolness, made a gesture of sullen assent.

"And that you overheard a part, but not the give my intemperate conduct, without exacting whole, of my conversation with the black domino the hostile meeting for which I was just now as in question?"

"I heard enough, and too much," replied Fatello, with a savage scowl at his intelocutor. "This is idle talk, mere gain of time. Baron Steinfeld !" cried the banker, in a voice that again rose high above its usual pitch, "you are

eager as I at present am to avoid it. If you insist, I must not refuse, but I give you my word that if I have a duel with you to-day, nothing shall induce me to depart from the defensive."

"I should be unreasonable," replied Steinfeld graciously, "if I exacted ampler satisfaction than Stop!" interrupted Steinfeld, speaking very this handsome apology, for what, after all, was no quickly, but with an extraordinary and command- unnatural misconception. Ten years ago, I might ing calmness, which again had its effect. "De- have been more punctilious, but after three or four scend not to invective, M. Fatello. There is encounters of the kind, a duel avoided, when its always time for violence. Hear reason. You real motive is removed, is a credit to a man's good are in error, an error easily explained. I certain-sense, and no slur upon his courage.' ly saw Madame Fatello at the ball, saw and spoke "No one will ever attack yours, my dear with her patience, sir, and hear me ! But the baron," " said Fatello. "I only hope you will domino, of my conversation with whom you heard always keep what has passed between us this a part, was not Madame Fatello, but Mademoiselle morning as profound a secret as I, for my own Gonfalon. You take little interest in the frivoli- sake, certainly shall do.. I am by no means disties of a masquerade, and are possibly unaware posed to boast of my part in the affair." that the two ladies' dresses were exactly similar. Steinfeld bowed politely, and the two men exYou can have heard our conversation but imper-changed, with smiles upon their faces, a cordial fectly, or you would not have wronged me by this grasp of the hand. suspicion." "Out of evil cometh good," said the banker Whilst uttering these last sentences, Steinfeld sententiously, subsiding upon the silken cushions redoubled the keenness of the scrutiny with which of a causeuse that extended its arms invitingly at he regarded the banker's uncomely and agitated the chimney-corner. "I am delighted to find that physiognomy. But although piquing himself, as the leaden bullet I anticipated exchanging with a former diplomatist, on skill in reading men's you is likely to be converted into a golden ring, thoughts through their faces, he was unable to de-establishing so near a connection between us as to oipher the expression of Fatello's countenance on render our fighting a duel one of the least probareceiving this plausible explanation of the error ble things in the world. My dear baron, I shall into which he had been led by the sisters' identity rejoice to call you brother-in-law." of costume. As he proceeded with it, the bank- "It would be a great honor for me," replied er's lips, slightly parting, gave his face an air of Steinfeld, "but you overrate the probability of my stupefied wonderment, in addition to its previously enjoying it. Nothing has passed between Madeinflamed and angry aspect. When Steinfeld con- moiselle Gonfalon and myself to warrant my reckcluded an explanation uttered with every appear-oning on her preference." ance of sincerity and candor, and in that flexible Tush, tush! baron," said Fatello, apparently. and affable tone which, when he chose to employ not heeding, or not noticing the somewhat superit, imparted to his words a peculiarly seductive cilious turn of Steinfeld's phrases," you forget and persuasive charm, Fatello's lips were again the new and not very creditable occupation to firmly closed, and curled with a curious and inex-which the demons of jealousy and suspicion last plicable smile. This faded away; he struck his night condemned me. You forget that I tracked left hand against his forehead, and remained for you in the promenade, and lay in ambush by the some moments plunged in thought, as if he hastily fountain, or you would hardly put me off with retraced in his memory what he had heard the such tales as these." night before, to see how it tallied with the explanation just given him. Thus, at least, Steinfeld interpreted his manner; and although the Austrian's countenance preserved its serenity, his heart throbbed violently against his ribs during the banker's brief cogitation. The result of this was evidently caught more correctly my conversation with your satisfactory to Fatello, from whose brow, when his amiable sister-in-law. Mademoiselle Gonfalon is hand again dropped by his side, the lowering cloud a charming person; the mask gives a certain lihad disappeared, replaced by affability and regret. cense to flirtation, and a partial hearing of what I see," he said, with better grace than might passed between us has evidently misled you as to have been expected from him, and taking a step its precise import." towards Steinfeld, "that nothing remains for me but to implore your pardon, baron, for my unwarrantable suspicions, and for the harsh and unbecoming expressions into which they betrayed me. Jealousy is an evil counsellor, and blinds to the simplest truths. I scarce dare hope you will for

The baron winced imperceptibly on being thus reminded how closely his movements had been watched.

"You are evidently new at the profession of a scout," said he jestingly, or you would have

"Not a bit of it!" cried Fatello, with an odd laugh- "I heard better than you think, I assure you; and what I did hear quite satisfied me that you are a smitten man, and that Sebastiana is well disposed to favor your suit."

"I must again protest," said Steinfeld, express

ing himself with some embarrassment, "that the my pocket; the very castle and its furniture are thought of becoming Mademoiselle Gonfalon's hus- pledged; some houses in Vienna, and a few thouband, great as the honor would be, has, never yet sand florins of Austrian rentes, derived from my been seriously entertained by me; and that, how-mother, melted away years ago; I am deeply in ever you may have been misled by the snatches debt, and harassed on all sides by duns and exof our conversation you overheard, nothing ever tortioners. I calculated my liabilities the other passed between us exceeding the limits of allow-day-why, I know not, for I have no chance of able flirtation-the not unnatural consequence of clearing them-and I found it would require three Mademoiselle Sebastiana's fascinating vivacity, hundred thousand florins to release my lands and and of the agreeable footing of intimacy on which, pay my debts. You see, my dear M. Fatello, I for the last three months, I have found admittance am not a very likely match for an heiress." at your hospitable house."

Sigismund Fatello preserved, while the baron waded through the intricacies of his artificial and complicated denial, a half-smile of polite but total incredulity.

Fatello had listened with profound attention to the insolvent balance-sheet exhibited by the baron. "Three hundred thousand florins-six hundred thousand francs," said he, musingly-" allowing for usury and overcharges, might doubtless be got "My dear baron," said he, gravely, when rid of for a hundred thousand less. Well, baron, Steinfeld at last paused, "I am sure you are too when Sebastiana marries, she will have more than honorable a man to trifle with the affections of that tacked to her apron. Her father left her any woman. I know you as the very opposite something like half a million, and I have not let character to those heartless and despicable male the money lie idle. She is a richer woman, by coquets, who ensnare susceptible hearts for the some thousand louis d'ors, than she was at his cruel pleasure of bruising or breaking them, and death. I don't carry her account in my head, but sacrifice, in their vile egotism, the happiness of I daresay her fortune would clear your lands, others to the indulgence of a paltry vanity. I and leave a nice nest-egg besides. And although detect the motives of your present reserve, and, | she certainly might find a husband in better plight believe me, I appreciate their delicacy. Rumor, as regards money matters, yet, as you are so much that eternal and impertinent gossip, has asserted attached to each other, and happiness, after all, is that Baron Ernest von Steinfeld has impaired, by his open hand and pursuit of pleasure, the heritage of his forefathers. I do not mean that this has become matter of common report; but we bankers have opportunities of knowing many things, and can often read in our bill-books and ledgers the histories of families and individuals. In short, it is little matter how I know that your affairs, my dear baron, are less flourishing than they might be, or than you could wish. But this, after all, is an unimportant matter. The dirty acres are still there the Schloss Steinfeld still stands firm upon its foundation, and though there be a bit of a mortgage on the domain, and some trouble with refractory Jews, it is nothing, I am sure, but what a clear head and a little ready cash will easily dispose of."

It was natural to suppose that a lover, whose position on the brink of ruin made him scruple to ask the hand of his mistress of her nearest male relative and protector, and who found his embarrassments suddenly smoothed over and made light of by the very person who might be expected to exaggerate them, would be the last man to place fresh stumbling-blocks on the path to happiness thus unexpectedly cleared before him. Steinfeld, however, appeared little disposed to chime in with the banker's emollient view of his disastrous financial position. With an eagerness that bespoke either the most honorable punctiliousness, or very little anxiety to become the husband of Mademoiselle Gonfalon, he set Fatello right.

"I heartily wish," said he, "matters were no worse than you suppose. You quite underrate my real embarrassments. My estate is mine only nominally; not a farthing it produces comes into

before gold, I shall make no difficulties. I noticed the girl was absent and sentimental of late, but never guessed the real cause. Ah, baron! you fascinating dogs have much to answer for!" Whilst Fatello thus ran on, with, as usual, more bluntness than good breeding, Steinfeld was evidently on thorns; and at the first appearance of a pause in the banker's discourse, he impatiently struck in.

"I must beg your attention, M. Fatello," said he, "whilst I repeat what you evidently have imperfectly understood that it has never entered my head to gain Mademoiselle Gonfalon's affections, and that I have no reason to believe I should succeed in the attempt. I again repeat that nothing but the most innocent and unimportant flirtation has passed between us. I am deeply sensible of your kind intentions-grateful for your generous willingness to overlook my unfortunate circumstances, and to promote my marriage with your sister-in-law; but, flattering and advantageous as such a union would be to me, I am not certain it would lead to that happiness which you justly deem preferable to wealth. I doubt whether my disposition and that of Mademoiselle Sebastiana would exactly harmonize. Moreover, necessitous though I am, it goes against my pride to owe everything to my wife. It would pain me to see her dowry swallowed up by my debts. Let us drop the subject, I entreat you. To-morrow you will appreciate and rejoice at my hesitation. I fully comprehend the generous impulse that prompts you. Having done me an injustice, you would compensate me beyond my merits. Thanks, my good friend; but, believe me, if happiness resides not in wealth, neither is it found in hasty or ill