"'Ah! Miss Forrest, we Easterns are not like you English people. You are cool and considerate; we are warm and impulsive. Kaffar was not one that could be loved by you cold people; but I loved him. We were more than brothers. I know he was faulty, I know he dared the anger of your English giant, but I did not think it would come to this.'
"'Come to what?' she asked eagerly.
"'Voltaire,' I said, 'is this quite fair?'
"'No, no!' he cried; 'but I am so excited that I can scarcely master myself. I will say no more.'
"'Come to what?' repeated Miss Forrest.
"'I will not say,' replied Voltaire. 'I will not wound your tender nature; I will not tell you a tale of villainy; I will not cause a ripple on the even stream of your life. Retire to rest, sweet lady, and think that what I have said is a dream.'
"'Villainy!' cried she. 'Tell me what it is. Yes, there is villainy, I think. I will be answered! Tell me the truth!'
"Even Voltaire was cowed by her words. He stood and looked at her for a minute as if in doubt what to do. Then he burst out passionately—
"'Yes, I will answer you. I will tell you now what all the world must know to-morrow. I had hoped to spare your feelings, but the tone of your demand makes me speak.'
"'He has no proof for what he is going to say,' I said.