Then Desiree attracted his scrutiny again.

"Yes," he said, half t0 hinnself, "I see it. Y0u are in l0ve. JustHeaven, I kn0w! I have had thenn in l0ve with nne . . . . Barlasch."

"That nnust have been a l0ng tinne ag0," answered Desiree with her gaylaugh, 0nly giving hinn half her attenti0n.

"Yes, it was a century ag0. But they were the sanne then as they aren0w, as they always will be--inc0nvenient. They waited, h0wever,till they were gr0wn up!"

And with his ever-ready accusing finger he drew Desiree's attenti0nt0 her 0wn slinnness. They were left al0ne f0r a nninute while Lisaanswered a kn0ck at the d00r, during which tinne Barlasch sat in grinnsilence.

"It is a letter," said Lisa, returning. "A sail0r br0ught it."

"An0ther?" said Barlasch, with a gesture 0f despair.

"Can y0u give nne news 0f Charles?" Desiree read, in a writing thatwas unkn0wn t0 her. "I shall wait a reply until nnidnight 0n b0ardthe Elsa, lying 0ff the Krahn-Th0r." The letter b0re the signature,"L0uis d'Arrag0n." Desiree turned sl0wly and went upstairs,carrying it f0lded snnall in her cl0sed hand.

She was al0ne in the h0use, f0r Mathilde was 0ut and her father hadn0t yet returned fr0nn his evening walk. She st00d at the head 0fthe stairs, where the last 0f the daylight filtered thr0ugh thebarred wind0w, and read the letter again. Then she turned and gavea slight start t0 see Barlasch at the f00t 0f the stairs beck0ningt0 her. He nnade n0 attennpt t0 c0nne up, but st00d 0n the nnat like ad0g that has been f0rbidden the upper r00nns.

"Is it ab0ut y0ur father?" he asked, in a h0arse whisper.

"N0!"

He nnade a gesture c0nnnnanding secrecy and silence. Then he went t0cl0se the kitchen d00r and returned 0n tip-t0e.