The servants knew very well what the count meant when he said, “Drive fast!” The coachman, on such occasions, made his horses literally¹ go as fast as they could; and, but for his great skill, the foot-passengers would have been in considerable danger. Nevertheless, on this evening Count Ville-Handry twice lowered the window to call out,—  
“Don’t drive at a walk!”
 
The fact is, that, in spite of his efforts to assume the air of a grave statesman, he was as impatient, and as vain of his love, as a young collegian hurrying to his first rendezvous² with his beloved. During dinner he had been sullen³ and silent; now he became talkative, and chatted away, without troubling himself about the silence of his companion.
 
To be sure, Daniel did not even listen. Half-buried in the corner of the well-padded carriage, he tried his best to control his emotions; for he was excited, more excited than ever in his life, by the thought that he was to see, face to face, this formidable adventuress, Miss Brandon. And like the wrestler⁴, who, before making a decisive assault, gathers up all his strength, he summoned to his aid his composure and his energy. It took them not more than ten minutes to drive the whole distance to Circus Street.
 
“Here we are!” cried the count.
 
And, without waiting for the steps to be let down, he jumped on the sidewalk, and, running ahead of his servants, knocked at the door of Miss Brandon’s house. It was by no means one of those modern structures which attract the eye of the passer-by by a ridiculous and conspicuous⁵ splendor⁶. Looking at it from the street, you would have taken it for the modest house of a retired⁷ grocer, who was living in it upon his savings⁸ at the rate of two or three thousand a year. It is true, that from the street, you could see neither the garden, nor the stables and the carriage-houses.
 
In the meantime a servant had appeared, who took the count’s and Daniel’s coats, and showed them up stairs. When they reached the upper landing, the count stopped, as if his breath had been giving out of a sudden.
 
“There,” he stammered¹⁰, “there!”
 
“Where? What?” Daniel did not know what he meant. The count only wished to say that “there” was the place where he had held Miss Brandon in his arms the day she had fainted. But Daniel had no time to ask any questions. Another servant appeared, coming out of the rooms, and, bowing low before Count Ville-Handry, he said,—
 
“The ladies have but just risen from table, and are still dressing¹¹.”
 
“Ah!”
 
“If the gentlemen will please sit down in the parlor¹², I will tell M. Elgin.”
 
“Very well,” said the count, speaking in a tone which showed that he considered himself perfectly¹³ at home in Miss Brandon’s house. He entered the parlor, followed by Daniel. It was a magnificent room; but every thing in it, from the carpet on the floor to the chandelier on the ceiling, betrayed the Puritanic taste of Mrs. Brian. It was splendid; but the splendor was cold, stiff, and mournful. The furniture had sharp angles, and suggested any thing but comfort. The bronze figures on the mantlepiece-clock were biblical personages; and the other bronzes were simply hideous¹⁴. Except these, there was no ornament¹⁵ visible, not a painting, nor a statuette.
 
Yes, one. Opposite the fireplace, in the place of honor, there stared at you a painting in a most costly¹⁶ gilt¹⁷ frame,—a horrible daub, representing a man of about fifty years, who wore a fancy uniform with enormous epaulets, a huge sword, a plumed¹⁸ hat, and a blue sash, into which two revolvers were thrust.
 
“Gen. Brandon, Miss Sarah’s father,” said Count Ville-Handry, in a tone of deep respect, which unnerved Daniel. “As a work of art, this portrait leaves, no doubt, much to be wished for; but they say the likeness¹⁹ is excellent.”
 
Certainly, though that might be so, there was no resemblance to be discovered between the tanned face of this American general and the blooming features of Miss Brandon. But there was something more. As Daniel examined this picture nearer by, and more closely, he thought he discovered a studied and intentional²⁰ coarseness of execution. It looked to him like the work of an artist who had endeavored to imitate those wretched painters who live upon the vanity of weak men and little children. He thought he discovered by the side of gross inaccuracies unmistakable traces of a master’s hand; and especially one of the ears, half hid behind the hair, seemed to him admirably done.
 
But, before he could draw his conclusions from this strange discovery, M. Thomas Elgin appeared in the room. He was in evening costume, looking taller and stiffer than ever in his white cravat²²; and, as he came forward, he halted a little on one foot, though leaning upon a big cane²³.
 
“What, my dear Sir Thorn!” exclaimed the count, “your leg still gives you trouble?”
 
“Oh, a great deal!” replied the honorable gentleman, with a very marked English accent,—“a great deal since this morning. The doctor thinks there must be something the matter with the bone.”
 
At the same time, obeying the tendency which we all have to display our ailments²⁴, he slightly drew up his trousers, so that the bandages became visible which he wore around his leg. Count Ville-Handry looked at it with pity; then, forgetting that he had introduced Daniel already the night before at the opera, he presented him once more; and, when the ceremony was over, he said to Sir Thorn,—
 
“Upon my word, I am almost ashamed to appear so early; but I knew you expected company to-night.”
 
“Oh, only a few persons!”
 
“And I desired to see you for a few moments alone.”
 
A strange grimace²⁵ represented the only smile of which the honorable gentleman was capable. He made it twice, and then said, caressing²⁶ his primly-cut whiskers,—
 
“They have told Miss Sarah that you are here, my dear count; and I heard her tell Mrs. Brian that she was nearly ready. I cannot imagine how she can spend so much time at her toilet.”
 
They were thus chatting away before the fireplace, Sir Thorn stretched out in an easy-chair, and the count leaning against the mantlepiece, while Daniel had withdrawn²⁷ into the embrasure of a window which looked upon the court-yard and the garden behind the house. There, his brow pressed against the cool window-panes, he was meditating²⁸. He could not understand this wound of M. Elgin’s.
 
“Is it possible that his fall was an intentional fall?” he thought, “or did he really break his leg? If he did so, that fainting-fit might have been natural, and not prearranged; but”—
 
He was just plunging²⁹ into these doubts and speculations³⁰, when the noise of a carriage entering the court-yard, aroused him from his thoughts.
 
He looked out. A coupe had driven up to the back porch of the house. A lady stepped out; and he was on the point of uttering a cry of surprise, for he thought he recognized Miss Sarah in that woman. But could that be so? He was unwilling³¹ to believe it, when she suddenly raised her head in order to speak to the coachman, and the light from the lamps fell full upon her face.
 
There was no doubt now on his mind. It was Miss Brandon.
 
She flew up the steps, and entered the house. He heard distinctly the heavy door close behind her.
 
At the opera, the night before, a single word uttered by Miss Brandon had sufficed to enlighten Daniel. But now this was a very different matter. It was a potent³² fact, unmistakable and tangible³³, which came to him in support of his suspicions.
 
In order to increase the passionate³⁴ impatience³⁵ of the count, they had told him that Miss Brandon was still dressing, but that she was making all haste to come down to him. Not a word had been said of her being out, and of her return at that very moment. Where had she been? What new intrigues³⁶ had compelled her to leave the house just then? It must have evidently been something of great importance to have kept her out till so late an hour, and when she knew, moreover, that the count was waiting for her.
 
This incident threw a flood of light on the cunning policy pursued in this house, and on the clever and active complicity of M. Thomas Elgin and Mrs. Brian. What their game really was, and how Count Ville-Handry had been caught in the trap, he now understood well enough; he would have been caught in it himself.
 
How clever these actors were! how perfect all the arrangements! and how scientifically the smallest details were pr............