cuderi shuddered involuntarily. "And then,
honoured lady," continued Desgrais, "it will not be demanded of you
that you again enter those dark gloomy rooms which filled you with such
horror and aversion. Olivier shall be brought to you here in your own
house as a free man, but at night, when all excitement can be avoided.
Then, without being even listened to, though of course he would be
watched, he may without constraint make a clean confession to you. That
you personally will have nothing to fear from the wretch--for that I
will answer to you with my life. He mentions your name with the
intensest veneration. He reiterates again and again that it is nothing
but his dark destiny, which prevented him seeing you before, that has
brought his life into jeopardy in this way. Moreover, you will be at
liberty to divulge what you think well of the things which Brusson
confesses to you. And what more could we indeed compel you to do?"

De Scuderi bent her eyes upon the floor in reflection. She felt she
must obey the Higher Power which was thus demanding of her that she
should effect the disclosure of some terrible secret, and she felt,
too, as though she could not draw back out of the tangled skein into
which she had run without any conscious effort of will. Suddenly making
up her mind, she replied with dignity, "God will give me firmness and
self-command, Bring Brusson here; I will speak with him."

Just as on the previous occasion when Brusson brought the casket, there
came a knock at De Scuderi's house door at midnight. Baptiste,
forewarned of this nocturnal visit, at once opened the door. De Scuderi
felt an icy shiver run through her as she gathered from the light
footsteps and hollow murmuring voices that the guards who had brought
Brusson were taking up their stations about the passages of the house.

At length the room door was softly opened. Desgrais came in, followed
by Olivier Brusson, freed from his fetters, and dressed in his own neat
clothing. The officer bowed respectfully and said, "Here is Brusson,
honoured lady," and then left the room. Brusson fell upon his knees
before Mademoiselle, and raised his folded hands in entreaty, whilst
copious tears ran down his cheeks.

De Scuderi turned pale and looked down upon him without being able to
utter a word. Though his features were now gaunt and hollow from
trouble and anguish and pain, yet an expression of the truest
staunchest honesty shone upon his countenance. Th