"She is called Héloïse Tison, and lives, Rue des Nonandières, No. 24."
At this name, Lorin uttered an exclamation, and fled. He had not reached the corner of the street when a letter was delivered to Arthémise. It only contained three lines,—
Not a word concerning me, dear friend; the revelation of my name would infallibly ruin me. Wait till to-morrow. I quit Paris to-night.
Thine,
Héloïse.
"Oh, my God!" cried the future goddess, "if I could only have divined this I should have waited till to-morrow," and she rushed to the window to recall Lorin, if there was yet time; but he had disappeared.
THE MOTHER AND DAUGHTER.
We have already said that in a few hours the news of this event had circulated through Paris. In short, there were at this epoch various indiscretions easy to comprehend on the part of a government of which the political schemes were made and unmade in the street.
The rumor gradually gained ground, till it at length reached the old Rue Saint Jacques, and two hours after the arrest of Maurice they heard of his detention.