o
the state of those monsters we see preserved in museums, floating in
alchohol. Jules fancied that he saw above that face the terrible head
of Ferragus, and his own anger was silenced by such a vengeance. The
husband found pity in his heart for the vacant wreck of what was once a
man.

"The duel has taken place," said the vidame.

"But he has killed many," answered Jules, sorrowfully.

"And many dear ones," added the old man. "His grandmother is dying; and
I shall follow her soon into the grave."

On the morrow of this day, Madame Jules grew worse from hour to hour.
She used a moment's strength to take a letter from beneath her pillow,
and gave it eagerly to her husband with a sign that was easy to
understand,--she wished to give him, in a kiss, her last breath. He
took it, and she died. Jules fell half-dead himself and was taken to his
brother's house. There, as he deplored in tears his absence of the day
before, his brother told him that this separation was eagerly desired
by Clemence, who wished to spare him the sight of the religious
paraphernalia, so terrible to tender imaginations, which the Church
displays when conferring the last sacraments upon the dying.

"You could not have borne it," said his brother. "I could hardly bear
the sight myself, and all the servants wept. Clemence was like a saint.
She gathered strength to bid us all good-bye, and that voice, heard for
the last time, rent our hearts. When she asked pardon for the pain she
might unwillingly have caused her servants, there were cries and sobs
and--"

"Enough! enough!" said Jules.

He wanted to be alone, that he might read the last words of the woman
whom all had loved, and who had passed away like a flower.

"My beloved, this is my last will. Why should we not make wills
for the treasures of our hearts, as for our worldly property? Was
not my love my property, my all? I mean here to dispose of my
love: it was the only fortune of your Clemence, and it is all that
she can leave you in dying. Jules, you love me still, and I die
happy. The doctors may explain my death as they think best; I
alone know the true cause. I shall tell it to you, whatever pain
it may cause you. I cannot carry with me, in a heart all yours, a
secret which you do not share, although I die the victim of an
enforced silence.

"Jules, I was nurtured and brought up in the deepest solitude, far
from the vices and the falsehoods of the world, by