creditors. Four months' delay was
granted his wife in which to raise the interest due on the loans; but
although journeying to Paris and soliciting every influence to procure
the required sum, the countess of Gruyere failed in her efforts. The
poor lady now saw the end of her dream of rehabilitating the fallen
fortunes of the man she had so unwisely married. How potent was the
charm of the bankrupt hero who could still inspire her unlimited
devotion was still better proved by the affection of his half brother
Francois. Modest, dignified and charitable, as his brilliant senior was
wasteful and rash, Francois' loyalty was unaltered by any disgrace of
misfortune. But in the very climax of his ills Count Michel lost this
invaluable brother and friend. In a letter to his implacable executors
he thus poured out his grief:

"Sirs, this letter is to inform you that in addition to all the
misfortunes and adversities, illnesses and otherwise, which it has
pleased God to send me, it has been His good pleasure to take from me my
brother Francois d'Aubonne who died yesterday morning at eleven o'clock
at Gruyere. The sorrow and grief which I suffer, dear Sirs, you cannot
imagine, at thus losing my second self and the brother who has rendered
me constant loyalty and service. Therefore, to you who are my chief
masters, fathers and friends, I confide my sorrow, praying you as good
fathers, friends, lords and ancient protectors of my house to console
and assist me as has hitherto been your good pleasure."

"Fanfarront" no longer, but helpless as a child in the face of the ills
he had wrought, Count Michel sent his courageous wife on her many futile
errands in his behalf, while he waited alone at the chateau for the
inevitable end. Writing again and again to Fribourg and Berne, declaring
that his illness gave him no peace and that the slightest effort to
think redoubled his pains, he found no better occupation for one of his
solitary days than to re-read his treaty with Fribourg.

"Magnifique Monsieur l'Avoyer, and honored lords, to your good graces I
affectionately commend myself.

"While I was sitting the other day, overwhelmed by the sufferings of my
poor body, I began to re-read my treaty of Combourgeoisie with your
city, to distract the ennui of my malady, when the countess' little dog
who had been gamboling about me dragged off, while I was not looking,
the ribbon and seal, which greatly annoyed me. I send you back the
paper, th