of the soil which covers it, and brand the mouldering bones with
infamy. No; the beloved of my soul shall mourn me as an innocent
victim. Time will mitigate her sorrow for me, but her grief for her
father's terrible crimes nothing would ever assuage."

Olivier ceased, and then a torrent of tears fell down his cheeks.
He threw himself at Mademoiselle Scuderi's feet, saying imploringly,
"You are convinced that I am innocent; I know you are. Be merciful
to me. Tell me how Madelon is faring." Mademoiselle Scuderi summoned
La Martiniere, and in a few minutes Madelon was clinging to Olivier's
neck. "Now that you are here, all is well. I knew that this
noble-hearted lady would save you," Madelon cried over and over; and
Olivier forgot his fate, and all that threatened him. He was free and
happy. They bewailed, in the most touching manner, what each had
suffered for the other, and embraced afresh, and wept for joy at being
together again.

Had Mademoiselle Scuderi not been convinced of Olivier's innocence
before, she must have been so when she saw those two lovers forgetting,
in the rapture of the time, the world, their sufferings, and their
indescribable sorrows. "None but a guiltless heart," she cried, "would
be capable of such blissful forgetfulness."

The morning light came breaking into the room, and Desgrais knocked
gently at the door, reminding them that it was time to take Olivier
away, as it could not be done later without attracting attention. The
lovers had to part.

The dim anticipations which Mademoiselle Scuderi had felt when Olivier
first came in had now embodied themselves in actual life--in a
terrible fashion. The son of her much-loved Anne was, though innocent,
implicated in a manner which apparently made it impossible to save him
from a shameful death. She admired his heroism, which led him to prefer
death loaded with the imputation of guilt to the betrayal of a secret
which would kill Madelon. In the whole realm of possibility, she could
see no mode of saving the unfortunate lad from the gruesome prison and
the dreadful trial. Yet it was firmly impressed on her mind that she
must not shrink from any sacrifice to prevent this most crying
injustice.

She tortured herself with all kinds of plans and projects, which were
chiefly of the most impracticable and impossible kind--rejected as soon
as formed. Every glimmer of hope grew fainter and fainter, and she
well-nigh despaired. But Madelon's pious, absolut