near each other, their arms resting on their knees,
and their faces buried in their hands. They remained silent, each
absorbed in his own reflections, while the thickly falling flakes of
snow gradually wrapped them in white mantles, without attracting
notice.

At length a heavy sigh escaped from Siquier's laboring breast. He rose
up, threw the purse of gold before Megret's feet, and suddenly left the
garden, without bidding him farewell. Megret, uttering no word,
remained sitting in the same posture, and Arwed was detained motionless
for some time, by the feelings which this singular and dreadful
disclosure awakened, and by a want of decision, which of the two first
to call to account for their hidden deed of horror. He finally
concluded: 'why should I contend with the miserable man, whom the
judgment of God has already stricken, whose marrow has been already
consumed by sickness and remorse, who has neither strength nor courage
to oppose me, and who, perhaps, would welcome death from my hand? No,
the insolent transgressor, in all the pride and bloom of life, shall be
the object of my wrath--the _seducer_! as his accomplice called him. I
will punish not the _knife_, but the _hand_!'--and he quickly
approached the entrance to the grove, which Megret was that moment
leaving.

The latter shrunk before the indignant glance of the youth. The flush
of anger and the paleness of terror alternately played upon his
countenance, and it was dreadful to see the two manly forms confronting
each other with looks of enmity and defiance.

The fearful silence was interrupted by Arwed. 'I have overheard your
conversation with Siquier, colonel,' said he, 'and, as you know how
strong was the love I bore the king, you will not be surprised when I
declare to you that we must fight!'

'You have an especial passion for pistol-shooting!' calmly and
jestingly replied Megret. 'Probably you wish to revive the custom of
the ancient pagans, with whom the companions in arms of a hero prince
reciprocally slaughtered each other on his grave; as an evidence of
their love and respect for him.'

'Name your time and place!' cried Arwed, whose anger was increased by
his insolent witticisms.

'Eight days from this, about the same hour,' answered Megret, after
some little reflection, 'in the first iron mine of Danemora.'

'That is a late and distant rendezvous,' said Arwed. 'You will not let
me wait for you there in vain?'

The Frenchman's eyes flas