the vizier, or who knew me at his court, are either dead or scattered; alone, I believe, of all my countrymen, I survived that dreadful war: I have only the letters of Ali Tebelin, which I have placed before you; the ring, a token of his good-will, which is here; and, lastly, the most convincing proof I can offer, namely, after an anonymous attack, the absence of all witnesses against my veracity and the purity of my military life.'
"A murmur of approbation ran through the assembly; and at this moment, Albert, had nothing more transpired, your father's cause had been gained. It only remained to put it to the vote, when the president resumed: 'Gentlemen, and you, M. le Comte, you will not be displeased, I presume, to listen to one who calls himself a very important witness, and who has just presented himself. He is, doubtless, come to prove the perfect innocence of our colleague. Here is a letter I have just received on the subject; shall it be read, or shall it be passed over? and shall we not regard this incident?' M. de Morcerf turned pale, and clinched his hands on the papers he held. The committee decided to hear the letter; the count was thoughtful and silent. The president read:
"'Mr. President, I can furnish the committee of inquiry into the conduct of the Lieutenant-General Count de Morcerf in Epirus and in Macedonia with important particulars.'
"The president paused, and the count turned pale. The president looked at his auditors interrogatively. 'Proceed,' was heard on all sides. The president resumed:
"'I was on the spot at the death of Ali Pacha; I was present during his last moments; I know what is become of Vasiliki and Haydée; I am at the command of the committee, and even claim the honor of being heard. I shall be in the lobby when this note is delivered to you.'
"'And who is this witness, or rather this enemy?' asked the count, in a tone in which there was a visible alteration. 'We shall know, sir,' replied the president. 'Is the committee willing to hear this witness?' 'Yes, yes,' said they all at once.
"The door-keeper was called. 'Is there any one in the lobby?' said the president.—'Yes, sir.'—'Who is it?'—'A woman accompanied by a servant.' Every one looked at his neighbor. 'Introduce her,' said the president. Five minutes after, the door-keeper again appeared: all eyes were fixed on the door, and I," said Beauchamp, "shared the general expectation and anxiety. Behind the door-keeper walked a woman enveloped in a large veil, which completely concealed her. It was evident, from the figure which her veil betrayed and the perfumes she had about her, that she was young and elegant, but that was all. The
