at his feet, and seemed to
look up to him and thank him, as one would pray. Then they cast their
eyes around them, as if in search of some other person, and, having
exchanged a few words, they fell sobbing into each other's arms."

"What a dreadful thing it is! How many poor creatures must have
perished!"

"When we quitted the rocks, the sea had already cast ashore seven dead
bodies, besides fragments of the wrecks, and packages. I spoke to some
of the coast-guard, and they will remain all day on the look-out; and
if, as I hope, any more should escape with life, they are to be
brought here. But surely that is the sound of voices!--yes, it is our
shipwrecked guests!"

The bailiff and his wife ran to the door of the room--that door, which
opened on the long gallery--whilst Rodin, biting convulsively his flat
nails, awaited with angry impatience the arrival of the strangers. A
touching picture soon presented itself to his view.

From the end of the dark some gallery, only lighted on one side by
several windows, three persons, conducted by a peasant, advanced slowly.
This group consisted of the two maidens, and the intrepid young man
to whom they owed their lives. Rose and Blanche were on either side of
their deliverer, who, walking with great difficulty, supported himself
lightly on their arms.

Though he was full twenty-five years of age, the juvenile countenance
of this man made him appear younger. His long, fair hair, parted on
the forehead, streamed wet and smooth over the collar of a large brown
cloak, with which he had been covered. It would be difficult to describe
the adorable expression of goodness in his pale, mild face, as pure as
the most ideal creations of Raphael's pencil--for that divine artist
alone could have caught the melancholy grace of those exquisite
features, the serenity of that celestial look, from eyes limpid and blue
as those of an archangel, or of a martyr ascended to the skies.

Yes, of a martyr! for a blood-red halo already encircled that beauteous
head. Piteous sight to see! just above his light eyebrows, and rendered
still more visible by the effect of the cold, a narrow cicatrix, from
a wound inflicted many months before, appeared to encompass his fair
forehead with a purple band; and (still more sad!) his hands had
been cruelly pierced by a crucifixion--his feet had suffered the same
injury--and, if he now walked with so much difficulty, it was that his
wounds had reopened, as he s