er
forgive me if you become worse through my imprudence. She must not know
that we have been to Madeleine's. It would render her uselessly
indignant; but Madeleine will be so overjoyed to see you once more that
I could not refuse to comply with your wishes."

The count murmured to himself, rather than replied to his son,--

"Good angel! My good angel! We are going to her! We are very
near--there! that's the house yonder. I'd know it among a thousand!
Maurice, I'm well! I'm strong! I want nothing now but to see Madeleine!
It's all right--is it not? She settled about that mortgage--she obtained
us those votes--there's no more trouble! Nobody knows what a scoundrel I
have been! I remember all clearly. I am very joyful; I must tell
Madeleine; I must say to her that she--she--she brought something of
heaven down to me; there must _be_ a heaven, for where else could
Madeleine belong?"

Maurice had not heard his father speak as much or as connectedly for a
month. His face was pleasantly animated, in spite of its unnatural
expression, and he moved his arms about so freely it was evident the
weight which had pressed with paralyzing force upon them was removed.

The carriage stopped. Maurice could scarcely prevent his father from
springing out before him and without assistance.

The silent Robert looked his surprise and gratification as he opened the
street door. While Maurice was inquiring where his mistress would be
found, Count Tristan pressed on alone, walking with a firm, rapid step.
He entered the first room. It was Madeleine's bed-chamber; the one he
himself had occupied during his illness. It was vacant. He passed on,
crying out,--

"Madeleine! Madeleine!" He looked into the drawing-room, then into the
dining-room, still calling, "Madeleine! Madeleine!"

He hurried on toward the well-remembered little boudoir. There Madeleine
was sitting at her desk, quietly sketching. When, to her amazement, she
heard the count's voice, she thought it was fancy; but the sound was
repeated again and again. Those were surely his tones! She started up
and opened the door. Count Tristan was standing only a few paces from
it,--Maurice behind him.

"Madeleine! Madeleine! I see you. I am happy. I can die now."

As these words burst from his lips, the count staggered forward and sank
on Madeleine's shoulder; for she had involuntarily stretched out her
arms toward him. The next instant he slipped through them and dropped
heavily upon t