deep breath of relief, and rising,
allowed himself to be shown to the sleeping chamber.

When about to breakfast the next morning, on the rolls and wine sent up
by the genealogist, he found a tiny package on his plate, opening which
he saw a handsome old watch-seal fitted with a newly-cut stone in
intaglio, showing a lion rampant on a shield.

The genealogist had had a jeweller cut on an old seal during the night
the arms of the de Lincys.

Speculating much, but saying little in reply to Gille's garrulity, he
set off with him to the old noble's attic. A voice, broken by asthma,
feebly called upon them to enter, and Germain's eyes fell upon, lying
on a tattered mattress by the window, the last wreck of a gentleman,
with whom he instantly felt the greatest sympathy. The rotten wood floor
and partitions of the room were bare of furniture except a worn box and
half a dozen dingy oil portraits of ancestors. The occupant's features
were pinched with sadness and starvation. His hair was white. He raised
himself with dignity to a sitting position, however, and received them
with a grave courtesy.

"Pardon us, Monsieur de Lincy!" the genealogist exclaimed; "I have made
a discovery which will be so interesting to you that I have hastened to
break it without waiting for the sun to rise higher."

"The hour is nothing," de Lincy replied; "I have always received
visitors in bed."

"But not always relatives."

A lofty look passed over the other's face.

"I am the only de Lincy."

"Will Monsieur lend me his seal?" said Maitre Gilles to Lecour. Then,
handing it to the de Lincy, he exclaimed, "Here is a discovery of mine!"

"What, are these my arms?" cried the old man.

"Yes, sir, preserved for generations in a distant colony by a branch
that does you honour. Permit me, sir, to introduce you to your cousin,
Monsieur LeCour de Lincy, of Canada, officer of the Bodyguard, and who
longs to make the acquaintance of the head of his family."

De Lincy bowed ceremoniously, and, glancing again at the ring, examined
it with avidity.

"The arms are those of my ancestors; and you say, sir, that this is an
heirloom of your family in Canada."

Lecour nodded.

"Your name is really----"

"LeCour."

"Discovered to be your cousin by Maitre Gilles, the expert in genealogy,
remember, Chevalier."

"You are very good, I admit," the old noble replied. "Yes, yes," he
mused aloud on recovering, permitting his eyes to rest on Germain's
f