ned to her own apartment, where she had left Salome and the
little Sister Felecitie.

She found them still waiting there; and both engaged in the little bit of
knitting or embroidery that they always carried in their pockets to take
up at odd moments that would otherwise be wasted in idleness, which was
held to be a grave fault, if not a deadly sin, by the sisterhood, and,
besides, from the sale of this work they realized a very considerable
income.

"I waited here, good mother, to learn more of the poor wounded man.
Sister Felecitie tells me that he is a suicide. I hope that is a
mistake," said Salome.

"It is too true, _helas_! But, my daughter," said the abbess,
turning to the young nun, "leave us alone for a few minutes."

The little sister retired obediently, but very unwillingly, for she was
tormented with unsatisfied curiosity concerning the unfortunate stranger,
who had committed suicide at their convent gate.

"Salome! do you know, can you conjecture, who the unhappy man is?"
solemnly inquired the abbess, as soon as she was left alone with her
young friend.

"I do not know. I--_fear to conjecture_," whispered the young wife;
growing pale.

"Yet your very fear proves that you _have_ conjectured, and
conjectured correctly. Yes! the wretched suicide is no other than John
Scott, the 'double' of the Duke of Hereward."

"Heaven of heavens! What drove him to the fatal deed? But why should
I ask? Of course, it was remorse! remorse that was slowly killing him!
too slowly for his suffering and his impatience!" exclaimed the young
lady, with a shudder.

"Yes, it was remorse, and--_desperation_."

"Desperation!"

"Yes! The English detectives had traced him down to this neighborhood;
they followed him down here with a warrant for his arrest, countersigned
by our chief of police. They surprised him near the south gate of the
convent; but he was too quick for them; and before they could prevent
him, driven to desperation, he caught a pistol from his pocket and shot
himself through the body, inflicting a mortal wound. They brought him
into the convent. I have had him placed in a comfortable room in the Old
Men's Home, where he is attended by Doctor Dubourg, of L'Ange, who
Providentially happened to be passing the convent at the time of the
occurrence."

Salome covered her face with her hands, and sank back in her chair, with
a groan.

A few moments elapsed, and then Salome, still vailing her face, murmured
a