"And who, and what are you?" she asked, after a pause.
"An exile—an orphan—an outcast! I have no name! Farewell!"
"No—stay yet—the danger is not past. Wait till my servant is gone to rest; I hear him yet. Sit down—sit down. And whither would you go?"
"I know not."
"Have you no friends?"
"Gone."
"No home?"
"None."
"And the police of Paris so vigilant!" cried Eugenie, wringing her hands. "What is to be done? I shall have saved you in vain—you will be discovered! Of what do they charge you? Not robbery—not—"
And she, too, stopped short, for she did not dare to breathe the black word, "Murder!"