e me.

She rose softly to her feet, holding out her lips to me; and I moved
towards her, trembling, delirious, feeling indeed that I was going to
kiss Heaven, to kiss happiness, to kiss a dream which had become a
woman, to kiss the ideal which had descended into human flesh.

She said to me: "You have a caterpillar in your hair." And suddenly I
felt myself becoming as sad as if I had lost all hope in life.

That is all, madame. It is puerile, silly, stupid. But I am sure that
since that day it would be impossible for me to love. And yet--who can
tell?

[The young man upon whom this letter was found was yesterday taken out
of the Seine between Bougival and Marly. An obliging bargeman, who had
searched the pockets in order to ascertain the name of the deceased,
brought this paper to the author.]

MOTHER AND SON!!!

We were chatting in the smoking-room after a dinner at which only men
were present. We talked about unexpected legacies, strange
inheritances. Then M. le Brument, who was sometimes called "the
illustrious master" and at other times the "illustrious advocate,"
came and stood with his back to the fire.

"I have," he said, "just now to search for an heir who disappeared
under peculiarly terrible circumstances. It is one of those simple and
ferocious dramas of ordinary life, a thing which possibly happens
every day, and which is nevertheless one of the most dreadful things I
know. Here are the facts:

"Nearly six months ago I got a message to come to the side of a dying
woman. She said to me:

"'Monsieur, I want to entrust to you the most delicate, the most
difficult, and the most wearisome mission that can be conceived. Be
good enough to take cognizance of my will, which is there on the
table. A sum of five thousand francs is left to you as a fee if you do
not succeed, and of a hundred thousand francs if you do succeed. I
want to have my son found after my death.'

"She asked me to assist her to sit up in the bed, in order that she
might be able to speak with greater ease, for her voice, broken and
gasping, was gurgling in her throat.

"I saw that I was in the house of a very rich person. The luxurious
apartment, with a certain simplicity in its luxury, was upholstered
with materials solid as the walls, and their soft surface imparted a
caressing sensation, so that every word uttered seemed to penetrate
their silent depths and to disappear and die there.

"The dying woman went on:

"'You