riend and companion for
nearly two years of sad imprisonment. He has sat by my bedside, fed
from my hand, and shared all my confidence. He is ugly, but he has
beautiful eyes; he is silent, but he is attentive; he is a brute, but
I wish the men of France were in this respect more his superiors! He
is very faithful. May you never have a worse friend! He feeds upon
insects, which I have been accustomed to procure for him. Be kind to
him; he will repay it. Like other men, I bequeath what I would take
with me if I could.

"Fellow-sufferer, adieu! GOD comfort you as He has comforted
me! The sorrows of this life are sharp but short; the joys of the next
life are eternal. Think sometimes on him who commends his friend to
your pity, and himself to your prayers.

"This is the last will and testament of Louis Archambaud Jean-Marie
Arnaud, Vicomte de B----."

Monsieur the Viscount's last will and testament was with difficulty
squeezed into the surface of the larger of the stones. Then he hid it
where the priest had hidden _his_ bequest long ago, and then lay down
to dream of Monsieur the Preceptor, and that they had met at last.

The next day was one of anxious suspense. In the evening, as usual, a
list of those who were to be guillotined next morning, was brought
into the prison; and Monsieur the Viscount begged for a sight of it.
It was brought to him. First on the list was Antoine! Halfway down was
his own name, "Louis de B----," and a little lower his fascinated
gaze fell upon names that stirred his heart with such a passion of
regret as he had fancied it would never feel again, "Henri de St.
Claire, Valerie de St. Claire."

Her eyes seemed to shine on him from the gathering twilight, and her
calm voice to echo in his ears. "_It has been in my mind all to-day.
There the wicked cease from troubling, and there the weary be at
rest._"

_There_! He buried his face and prayed.

He was disturbed by the unlocking of the door, and the new gaoler
appeared with Antoine! The poor wretch seemed overpowered by terror.
He had begged to be imprisoned for this last night with Monsieur the
Viscount. It was only a matter of a few hours, as they were to die at
daybreak, and his request was granted.

Antoine's entrance turned the current of Monsieur the Viscount's
thoughts. No more selfish reflections now. He must comfort this poor
creature, of whose death he was to be the unintentional cause.
Antoine's first anxiety was that Monsieur t