She turned the key, pushed open the door, and found herself in the presence of an elderly man, dressed in uniform, and seated near a table, who gazed fixedly at her. This man, by the position he occupied, and the way in which the light was arranged, could see her perfectly; while, on the other hand, the She-wolf could not distinguish his features, hidden as they were by the gloom. The She-wolf walked resolutely into the room.
"Thanks for having received me," she said; "I was afraid you had utterly forgotten."
"If that is meant for a reproach, I do not understand you," the officer said, sternly; "and I should feel obliged by a clear explanation."
"Are you not Major Melville?"
"I am."
"The way in which I entered the fort proves to me that you recognised the ring I sent you."
"I recognized it; for it reminds me of a very dear person," he said, with a suppressed sigh; "but how is it in your hands?"
The She-wolf regarded the Major sadly for a moment, then walked up to him, gently took his hand, which she pressed in hers, and replied, with an accent full of tears—
"Harry, I must be changed by suffering, if you do not even recognise my voice."
At these words a livid pallor covered the officer's face; he rose with a movement quick as lightning; his body was agitated by a convulsive tremor, and seizing, in his turn, the woman's hands, he exclaimed madly—