reached down to her feet, which were almost entirely concealed by
the folds of this garment.

The attitude was full of nobleness and simplicity. The head looked white
and luminous, standing out from a dark gray sky, marbled at the horizon
by purple clouds, upon which were visible the bluish summits of distant
hills, in deep shadow. The arrangement of the picture, as well as the
warm tints of the foreground, contrasting strongly with these distant
objects, showed that the woman was placed upon an eminence, from which
she could view the whole horizon. The countenance was deeply pensive and
desponding. There was an expression of supplicating and resigned grief,
particularly in her look, half raised to heaven, which one would have
thought impossible to picture. On the left side of the fireplace was the
other portrait, painted with like vigor. It represented a man, between
thirty and thirty-five years of age, of tall stature. A large brown
cloak, which hung round him in graceful folds, did not quite conceal a
black doublet, buttoned up to the neck, over which fell a square white
collar. The handsome and expressive head was marked with stern powerful
lines, which did not exclude an admirable air of suffering, resignation,
and ineffable goodness. The hair, as well as the beard and eyebrows, was
black; and the latter, by some singular caprice of nature, instead of
being separated and forming two distinct arches, extended from one temple
to the other, in a single bow, and seemed to mark the forehead of this
man with a black line.

The background of this picture also represented a stormy sky; but, beyond
some rocks in the distance, the sea was visible, and appeared to mingle
with the dark clouds. The sun, just now shining upon these two remarkable
figures (which it appeared impossible to forget, after once seeing them),
augmented their brilliancy.

Starting from his reverie, and casting his eyes by chance upon these
portraits, Samuel was greatly struck with them. They appeared almost
alive. "What noble and handsome faces!" he exclaimed, as he approached to
examine them more closely. "Whose are these portraits? They are not those
of any of the Rennepont family, for my father told me that they are all
in the Hall of Mourning. Alas!" added the old man, "one might think, from
the great sorrow expressed in their countenances, that they ought to have
a place in that mourning-chamber."

After a moment's silence, Samuel resumed: "Let