She hung upon his words, and would fain hear more--more! "My God!" he responded with a sort of fierce pride that was almost arrogant.

"Although I was born a peasant, mademoiselle, not the finest gentleman in France or England could love you as I do.

Yet it is impossible for you to love me now that the Emperor is no longer here.
Your uncle would never consent.

You, yourself, love that English gentleman.

Why give thought to Marteau?
Summon assistance, deliver me up and remember me as one who loved you with all the fervor of his heart, or forget me, if you can." "I would not have you die," said the woman, shuddering.