aura went out, and I followed her. I called upon a
physician, where I wasted my time and my money, in order to get from him
a long prescription which was useless, for it would have put all the
convent in possession of the secret, or, to speak more truly, her secret
would have been known to the whole world, for a secret known to a nun
soon escapes out of the convent's walls. Besides, the physician of the
convent himself would most likely have betrayed it through a spirit of
revenge.

I returned sadly to my miserable hole in Laura's house. Half an hour
afterwards she came to me, crying bitterly, and she placed in my hands
this letter, which was scarcely legible:

"I have not strength enough to write to you, my darling; I am getting
weaker and weaker; I am losing all my blood, and I am afraid there is no
remedy. I abandon myself to the will of God, and I thank Him for having
saved me from dishonour. Do not make yourself unhappy. My only
consolation is to know that you are near me. Alas! if I could see you but
for one moment I would die happy."

The sight of a dozen napkins brought by Laura made me shudder, and the
good woman imagined that she afforded me some consolation by telling me
that as much linen could be soaked with a bottle of blood. My mind was
not disposed to taste such consolation; I was in despair, and I addressed
to myself the fiercest reproaches, upbraiding myself as the cause of the
death of that adorable creature. I threw myself on the bed, and remained
there, almost stunned, for more than six hours, until Laura's return from
the convent with twenty napkins entirely soaked. Night had come on, and
she could not go back to her patient until morning. I passed a fearful
night without food, without sleep, looking upon myself with horror, and
refusing all the kind attentions that Laura's daughters tried to shew me.

It was barely daylight when Laura same to announce to me, in the saddest
tone, that my poor friend did not bleed any more. I thought she was dead,
and I screamed loudly,

"Oh! she is no more!"

"She is still breathing, sir; but I fear she will not outlive this day,
for she is worn out. She can hardly open her eyes, and her pulse is
scarcely to be felt."

A weight was taken off me; I was instinctively certain that my darling
was saved.

"Laura," I said, "this is not bad news; provided the flooding has ceased
entirely, all that is necessary is to give her some light food."

"A physician has