Serene Highness requires that you shall depart before
eight o'clock to-morrow morning, for your chateau of Valleja. His
Highness will notify you when you may return to Parma.'"

The Prince's eyes sought those of the Duchess, but the latter, omitting
the thanks which he had expected, made him an extremely respectful
reverence, and rapidly left the room.

"What a woman!" said the Prince, turning towards Count Mosca.

Copyrighted by George H. Richmond and Company.

CLELIA AIDS FABRICE TO ESCAPE

From "La Chartreuse de Parme"

One day--Fabrice had been a captive nearly three months, had had
absolutely no communication with the outside world, and yet was not
unhappy--Grillo had remained hanging about the cell until a late hour of
the morning. Fabrice could think of no way of getting rid of him, and
was on pins and needles; half-past twelve had struck when at last he was
enabled to open the little trap in the hateful shutter.

Clelia was standing at the window of the aviary in an expectant
attitude, an expression of profound despair on her contracted features.
As soon as she saw Fabrice she signaled to him that all was lost; then,
hurrying to her piano, and adapting her words to the accompaniment of a
recitative from a favorite opera, in accents tremulous with her emotion
and the fear of being overheard by the sentry beneath, she sang:--

"Ah, do I see you still alive? Praise God for his infinite mercy!
Barbone, the wretch whose insolence you chastised the day of your
arrival here, disappeared some time ago and for a few days was not seen
about the citadel. He returned day before yesterday, and since then I
have reason to fear he has a design of poisoning you. He has been seen
prowling about the kitchen of the palace where your meals are prepared.
I can assert nothing positively, but it is my maid's belief that his
skulking there bodes you no good. I was frightened this morning, not
seeing you at the usual time; I thought you must be dead. Until you hear
more from me, do not touch the food they give you; I will try to manage
to convey a little chocolate to you. In any case, if you have a cord, or
can make one from your linen, let it down from your window among the
orange-trees this evening at nine o'clock. I will attach a stronger cord
to it, and with its aid you can draw up the bread and chocolate I will
have in readiness."

Fabrice had carefully preserved the bit of charcoal he had found in the
stove; taking adv