s
haggard, and his eyes were terribly swollen. Warned the evening before
by Aubry, the poor man had spent the entire night in the street,
crouching against the wall of the prison, weeping and moaning while he
waited for the hour when he could see Dolores.

"What do I hear, mademoiselle," he exclaimed, on meeting her. "You are
summoned before the Tribunal! Oh! it is impossible. There must be some
mistake. They can accuse you of no crime, nor can they think of
punishing you as if you had been an Emigre or a conspirator."

"Nevertheless, I received a summons yesterday and also a paper
containing the charge against me."

"Alas, alas!" groaned Coursegol, "why did you not listen to me? Why have
you not made use of the order I procured for you? You would now be at
liberty and happy."

"But Antoinette had no means of escape."

"And what do I care for Mademoiselle de Mirandol? She is nothing to me,
while you are almost my daughter. If you die, I shall not survive you. I
have accomplished miracles to insure your escape from prison. I also
flattered myself that I had assured your life's happiness, but by your
imprudence you have rendered all my efforts futile. Oh, God is not
just!"

"Coursegol, in pity say no more!"

But he would not heed her. He was really beside himself, and he
continued his lamentations and reproaches with increasing violence,
though his voice was choked with sobs. He gesticulated wildly; he formed
a thousand plans, each more insane than the preceding. Now, he declared
his intention of forcibly removing Dolores; now he declared he would
appeal to the judges for mercy; again he swore that Vauquelas should
interfere in her behalf. But the girl forbade any attempt to save her.

"No, my good Coursegol," she said; "the thought of death does not
appall me; and those who mourn for me will find consolation in the hope
of meeting me elsewhere."

"And do you think this hope will suffice for me?" cried Coursegol.
"Since I took you from the breast of your dying mother on the threshold
of the Chateau de Chamondrin, I have loved you more and more each day. I
lived for you and for you alone. My every hope and ambition were centred
in you. You were my joy, my happiness, the only charm life had for me;
and to see you condemned, you, the innocent--"

Sobs choked his utterance.

"Show me the charges against you," he demanded, suddenly.

"What is the use?" rejoined Dolores, desiring to conceal the truth from
him un