"Harry, Harry Lorrequer," cried he, as he entered; then suddenly checking himself, added "a thousand, ten thousand pardons. But—"
"But what," cried I passionately, forgetting all save the situation of poor Emily at the moment, "what can justify—"
"Nothing certainly can justify such an intrusion," said Trevanion, finishing my sentence for me, "except the very near danger you run this moment in being arrested. O'Leary's imprudence has compromised your safety, and you must leave Paris within an hour."
"Oh, Mr. Trevanion," said Emily, who by this time had regained a more befitting attitude, "pray speak out; what is it? is Harry—is Mr. Lorrequer, I mean, in any danger?"
"Nothing of consequence, Miss Bingham, if he only act with prudence, and be guided by his friends. Lorrequer, you will find me in your apartments in half an hour—till then, adieu."
While Emily poured forth question after question, as to the nature and extent of my present difficulty, I could not help thinking of the tact by which Trevanion escaped, leaving me to make my adieux to Emily as best I might—for I saw in a glance that I must leave Paris at once. I, therefore, briefly gave her to understand the affair at the salon—which I suspected to be the cause of the threatened arrest—and was about to profess my unaltered and unalterable attachment, when she suddenly stopped me.
"No, Mr. Lorrequer, no. All is over between us. We must never meet again—never. We have been both playing a part. Good by—good by: do not altogether forget me—and once more, Harry good by."
What I might have said, thought, or done, I know not; but the arrival of Mrs. Bingham's carriage at the door left no time for any thing but escape. So, once more pressing her hand firmly to my lips, I said—"au revoir, Emily, au revoir, not good by," and rushing from the room, regained my own, just as Mrs. Bingham reached the corridor.