"Thank you! I shall do that presently; and as to the other--of course I

shall tell you; what else do you suppose I have come for to-night? Look

here! Do you see this?"

She drew out from some hidden pocket in her dress a small and

beautifully-wrought casket of ivory and silver, with straps and clasps

of silver, and a tiny key of the same.

"Well!" asked Leoline, looking from it to her, with the blank air of one

utterly bewildered, "In this casket, my dear, there is a roll of papers, closely written,

which you are to read as soon as I leave you. Those papers contain your

whole history--do you understand?"

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She was looking so white, and staring so hard and so hopelessly, that

there was need of the question. She took the casket and gazed at it with

a perplexed air.

"My child, have your thoughts gone wool-gathering? Do you not comprehend

what I have said to you! Your whole history is hid in that box?"

"I know!" said Leoline, slowly, and with her eyes again riveted to the

black mask. "But; madame, who are you?"

"Have I not told you? What a pretty inquisitor it is! I am La

Masque--your friend, now; something more soon, as you will see when you

read what I have spoken of. Do not ask me how I have come by it--you

will read all about it there. I did not know that I would give it to you

to-night, but I have a strange foreboding that it is destined to be my

last on earth. And, Leoline my child, before I leave you, let me hear

you say you will not hate me when you read what is there."

"What have you done to me? Why should I hate you?"

"Ah! you will find that all out soon enough. Do content me, Leoline--let

me hear you say; `La Masque, whatever you've done to me, however you

have wronged me, I will forgive you!' Can you say that?"

Leoline repeated it simply, like a little child. La Masque took her

hand, held it between both her own, leaned over and looked earnestly in

her face.

"My little Leoline! my beautiful rosebud! May Heaven bless you and grant

you a long and happy life with--shall I say it, Leoline?"

"Please--no!" whispered Leoline, shyly.

La Masque softly patted the little tremulous hand.

"We are both saying the name now in our hearts, my dear, so it is little

matter whether our lips repeat it or not. He is worthy, of you, Leoline,

and your life will be a happy one by his side; but there is another."

She paused and lowered her voice. "When have you seen Count L'Estrange?"

"Not since yesterday, madame."




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