otte to-morrow to make sure that Sir John is gone, and
then, if you are certain, make the accustomed signal. Do not be
alarmed; do not talk to me of the snow, or tell me that my
footsteps will be seen. This time it is not I who will go to you,
but you who must come to me. Do you understand? You can safely
walk in the park, and no one will notice your footsteps.

Put on your warmest shawl and your thickest furs. Then we will
spend an hour in the boat under the willows together, and change
our roles for once. Usually I tell you of my hopes and you tell
me of your fears; but to-morrow, you will tell me of your hopes
and I will tell you of my fears, my darling Amelie.

Only, be sure to come out as soon as you have made the signal. I
will await it at Montagnac, and from Montagnac to the Reissouse
it will not take a love like mine five minutes to reach you.

Au revoir, my poor Amelie; had you never met me you would have
been the happiest of the happy. Fatality placed me in your path,
and I have made a martyr of you.

Your CHARLES.

P.S.--To-morrow without fail, unless some insurmountable obstacle
prevents.

CHAPTER XLVIII. IN WHICH MORGAN'S PRESENTIMENTS ARE VERIFIED

It often happens that the skies are never so calm or so serene as before
a storm. The day was beautiful and still; one of those glorious days of
February when, in spite of the tingling cold of the atmosphere, in spite
of a winding-sheet of snow covering the earth, the sun smiles down upon
mankind with a promise of spring.

Sir John came at noon to make his farewell visit to Amelie. He had, or
thought he had, her promise, and that satisfied him. His impatience was
altogether personal; but Amelie, in accepting his suit, even though she
relegated the period of her marriage to the vaguest possible future,
had crowned his hopes. He trusted to the First Consul and to Roland's
friendship for the rest. He therefore returned to Paris to do much of
his courting with Madame de Montrevel, not being able to remain at Bourg
and carry it on with Amelie.

A quarter of an hour after he had left the Chateau des Noires-Fontaines,
Charlotte was also on her way to Bourg. At four o'clock she returned,
bringing word that she had seen Sir John with her own eyes getting into
his travelling carriage, and that he had taken the road to Macon.

Amelie could therefore feel perfectly at ease on that score. She
breathed freer. She had tri