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voice of Dumay at her door.

"Writing to my father," she answered; "did you not tell me you should



start in the morning?"

Dumay had nothing to say to that, and he went to bed, while Modeste



wrote another long letter, this time to her father.

On the morrow, Francois Cochet, terrified at seeing the Havre postmark



on the envelope which Ernest had mailed the night before, brought her

young mistress the following letter and took away the one which



Modeste had written:--

To Mademoiselle O. d'Este M.,--My heart tells me that you were the



woman so carefully veiled and disguised, and seated between

Monsieur and Madame Latournelle, who have but one child, a son.



Ah, my love, if you have only a modest station, without

distinction, without importance, without money even, you do not



know how happy that would make me. You ought to understand me by

this time; why will you not tell me the truth? I am no poet,--



except in heart, through love, through you. Oh! what power of

affection there is in me to keep me here in this hotel, instead of



mounting to Ingouville which I can see from my windows. Will you

ever love me as I love you? To leave Havre in such uncertainty! Am



I not punished for loving you as if I had committed a crime? But I

obey you blindly. Let me have a letter quickly, for if you have



been mysterious, I have returned you mystery for mystery, and I

must at last throw off my disguise, show you the poet that I am,



and abdicate my borrowed glory.

This letter made Modeste terriblyuneasy. She could not get back the



one which Francoise had carried away before she came to the last

words, whose meaning she now sought by reading them again and again;



but she went to her own room and wrote an answer in which she demanded

an immediate explanation.



CHAPTER XIV

MATTERS GROWN COMPLICATED



During these little events other little events were going on in Havre,

which caused Modeste to forget her present uneasiness. Dumay went down



to Havre early in the morning, and soon discovered that no architect

had been in town the day before. Furious at Butscha's lie, which



revealed a conspiracy of which he was resolved to know the meaning, he

rushed from the mayor's office to his friend Latournelle.



"Where's your Master Butscha?" he demanded of the notary, when he saw

that the clerk was not in his place.



"Butscha, my dear fellow, has gone to Paris. He heard some news of his

father this morning on the quays, from a Swedish sailor. It seems the



father went to the Indies and served a prince, or something, and he is

now in Paris."



"Lies! it's all a trick! infamous! I'll find that damnedcripple if

I've got to go express to Paris for him," cried Dumay. "Butscha is



deceiving us; he knows something about Modeste, and hasn't told us. If

he meddles in this thing he shall never be a notary. I'll roll him in



the mud from which he came, I'll--"

"Come, come, my friend; never hang a man before you try him," said



Latournelle, frightened at Dumay's rage.

After stating the facts on which his suspicions were founded, Dumay



begged Madame Latournelle to go and stay at the Chalet during his

absence.



"You will find the colonel in Paris," said the notary. "In the

shipping news quoted this morning in the Journal of Commerce, I found



under the head of Marseilles--here, see for yourself," he said,

offering the paper. "'The Bettina Mignon, Captain Mignon, arrived



October 6'; it is now the 17th, and the colonel is sure to be in

Paris."



Dumay requested Gobenheim to do without him in future, and then went

back to the Chalet, which he reached just as Modeste was sealing her



two letters, to her father and Canalis. Except for the address the

letters were precisely alike both in weight and appearance. Modeste



thought she had laid that to her father over that to her Melchior, but

had, in fact, done exactly the reverse. This mistake, so often made in



the little things of life, occasioned the discovery of her secret by

Dumay and her mother. The former was talking vehemently to Madame



Mignon in the salon, and revealing to her his fresh fears caused by




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