420 • FRAGMENT OF A JOURNAL. 



He disappeared from my sight. In vain I looked around. In vain I 

 sent Victor in every direction to find him. He was gone, and I re- 

 turned here in a most dreadful state of wretchedness. Leontine 

 ceased speaking. I glanced my eyes towards Etienne. He was ap- 

 parently wrapped in thought. I watched him for some time. He 

 seemed to be unconscious of our presence. At length he started up 

 and said, "Leontine, this is no idle tale, I will use every effort to find 

 him out. I will have him searched for all over Italy, all over Europe, 

 if it be necessary. Only be calm about it yourself. Do not let anxiety 

 for me disturb your mind. I feel convinced I shall find him. 



We accordingly set on foot a severe search. We took every pre- 

 . caution. But to no purpose : we heard nothing more of de Bertou. 

 We left Rome and proceeded on towards Naples, There we hired 

 lodgings for a month, determined, if possible, to obtain the object of 

 our search. The whole affair had a terrible effect on Etienne's 

 spirits. He had always thought himself the only one who could ap- 

 preciate Leontine. He had always rejoiced at being free from all the 

 jealousies of a rival, and now his happy delusion was dissolved. He 

 knew now that he had a rival, and that rival was the most violent and 

 hard-hearted of all human beings. He feared nothing for himself; 

 he only dreaded the effect his death would have on Leontine. He 

 felt a sort of security that he should not die by de Bertou's hand, 

 and yet he had a sad foreboding, for which he could in no ways ac- 

 count. 



All our endeavours to trace de Bertou were fruitless. Leontine 

 prevailed upon her husband to i-eturn to France, and in a week or 

 two afterwards we once more took up our abode in Paris. The 

 dreadful suspense that preyed upon us from the circumstance of 

 Leontine's rencontre at Rome had a dreadful effect on her spirits. 

 I well understood the object of the wretched Henri, in thus delaying 

 to accomplish his threats. I well knew the feeling he had of allow- 

 ing Etienne's happiness to become full, ere he wreaked on him his 

 vengeance. 



About seven months after our departure from Rome, Leontine re- 

 ceived a note from an unknown hand. She opened it in the presence 

 of Etienne and myself. It contained the following ominous words : 

 — " Beware, a traitor seeks your life and that of your husband. 

 Take care where you go. Never be unguarded.'' There was no sig- 

 nature. This letter revived all our fears. Leontine could no longer 

 bear up. She became dangerously ill. Week after week she suffered, 

 and it seemed as if si e would never recover. She gradually, how- 

 ever, and slowly got better. Country air was advised for her. But all 

 was unavailing. She drooped. The resources of art had no effect ; 

 her hour was not yet come. 



Some time after the reception of the fatal note which had been 

 the ruin of Leontine's health, Etienne, herself, and some friends, 

 amongst whom I was, were taking a stroll upon the heights of 

 Montmartre. This delightful place is about a quarter of a mile 

 from Paris, and commands a splendid view of the town and the sur- 

 rounding country. It was a beautiful sunny day. 



The spring was just beginning to cheer the earth, and the balmy 



