"I do reject it."
"Monsieur Fouquet, look at me," said the marquise, with glistening eyes, "I now offer you my love."
"Oh, madame!" exclaimed Fouquet.
"I have loved you for a long while past; women, like men, have a false delicacy at times. For a long time past I have loved you, but would not confess it. Well, then, you have implored this love on your knees, and I have refused you; I was blind, as you were a little while since; but as it was my love that you sought, it is my love that I now offer you."
"Oh, madame! you overwhelm me beneath the weight of my happiness."
"Will you be happy, then, if I am yours — yours entirely?"
"It will be the supremest happiness for me,"
"Take me, then. If, however, for your sake I sacrifice a prejudice, do you, for mine, sacrifice a scruple."
"Do not tempt me."
"Do not refuse me."
"Think seriously of what you are proposing."
"Fouquet, but one word. Let it be no, and I open this door," and she pointed to the door which led into the street, "and you will never see me again. Let that word be yes, and I am yours entirely."
"Elise! Elise! But this coffer?"
"It contains my dowry."
"It is your ruin," exclaimed Fouquet, turning over the gold and papers; "there must be a million here."
"Yes, my jewels, for which I care no longer if you do not love me, and for which, equally, I care no longer if you love me as I love you."
"This is too much," exclaimed Fouquet. "I yield, I yield, even were it only to consecrate so much devotion. I accept the dowry."
"And take the woman with it," said the marquise, throwing herself into his arms.
CHAPTER XXIX.
LE TERRAIN DE DIEU.
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the progress of these events Buckingham and De Wardes traveled in excellent companionship, and made the journey from Paris to Calais in undisturbed harmony to-
