t found himself too feeble.

"Bertha," said he, "help me get up."

She leaned over the bed, and taking her husband in her arms,
succeeded in placing him as he wished. He appeared more at ease
in his new position, and took two or three long breaths.

"Now," he said, "I should like something to drink. The doctor lets
me take a little old wine, if I have a fancy for it; give me some."

She hastened to bring him a glass of wine, which he emptied and
handed back to her.

"There wasn't any poison in it, was there?" he asked.

This ghastly question and the smile which accompanied it, melted
Bertha's callousness; remorse had already taken possession of her,
as her disgust of Tremorel increased.

"Poison?" she cried, eagerly, "never!"

"You must give me some, though, presently, so as to help me to die."

"You die, Clement? No; I want you to live, so that I may redeem
the past. I am a wretch, and have committed a hideous crime--but
you are good. You will live; I don't ask to be your wife, but
only your servant. I will love you, humiliate myself, serve you
on my knees, so that some day, after ten, twenty years of expiation,
you will forgive me!"

Hector in his mortal terror and anguish, was scarcely able to
distinguish what was taking place. But he saw a dim ray of hope
in Bertha's gestures and accent, and especially in her last words;
he thought that perhaps it was all going to end and be forgotten,
and that Sauvresy would pardon them. Half-rising, he stammered:

"Yes, forgive us, forgive us!"

Sauvresy's eyes glittered, and his angry voice vibrated as if it
came from a throat of metal.

"Forgive!" cried he, "pardon! Did you have pity on me during all
this year that you have been playing with my happiness, during this
fortnight that you have been mixing poison in all my potions?
Pardon? What, are you fools? Why do you think I held my tongue,
when I discovered your infamy, and let myself be poisoned, and
threw the doctors off the scent? Do you really hope that I did
this to prepare a scene of heartrending farewells, and to give
you my benediction at the end? Ah, know me better!"

Bertha was sobbing; she tried to take her husband's hand, but he
rudely repulsed her.

"Enough of these falsehoods," said he. "Enough of these perfidies.
I hate you! You don't seem to perceive that hate is all that is
still living in me."

Sauvresy's expression was at this moment ferocious. "It is almost
two months since I learned th