an coughed feebly, then all was silent.

In a little while the dark majesty with which sleeping earth is invested
at midnight brought all things under its sway. No lights shone but the
light of the stars. The frost gripped the ground. There was not a sound
of a voice, nor a living creature stirring. The crackling of the fire
only seemed to make the depth of the silence more fully felt.

The church clock of Montreuil had just struck one, when an almost
inaudible sound of a light footstep came from the second flight of
stairs. The Marquis and his daughter, both believing that M. de Mauny's
murderer was a prisoner above, thought that one of the maids had come
down, and no one was at all surprised to hear the door open in the
ante-chamber. Quite suddenly the murderer appeared in their midst. The
Marquis himself was sunk in deep musings, the mother and daughter were
silent, the one from keen curiosity, the other from sheer astonishment,
so that the visitor was almost half-way across the room when he spoke to
the General.

"Sir, the two hours are almost over," he said, in a voice that was
strangely calm and musical.

"_You here_!" cried the General. "By what means----?" and he gave wife
and daughter a formidable questioning glance. Helene grew red as fire.

"You!" he went on, in a tone filled with horror. "_You_ among us! A
murderer covered with blood! You are a blot on this picture! Go, go
out!" he added in a burst of rage.

At that word "murderer," the Marquise cried out; as for Helene, it
seemed to mark an epoch in her life, there was not a trace of surprise
in her face. She looked as if she had been waiting for this--for him.
Those so vast thoughts of hers had found a meaning. The punishment
reserved by Heaven for her sins flamed out before her. In her own eyes
she was as great a criminal as this murderer; she confronted him with
her quiet gaze; she was his fellow, his sister. It seemed to her that in
this accident the command of God had been made manifest. If she had been
a few years older, reason would have disposed of her remorse, but at
this moment she was like one distraught.

The stranger stood impassive and self-possessed; a scornful smile
overspread his features and his thick, red lips.

"You appreciate the magnanimity of my behavior very badly," he said
slowly. "I would not touch with my fingers the glass of water you
brought me to allay my thirst; I did not so much as think of washing my
blood-stained h