"Zounds! I will sooner throw De Chemerant from these cliffs at the least pretense," cried Croustillac. "And, as for that, with your slaves, we could furnish him a fine escort. But I think--will you try this method? How many slaves can you arm, sir?" "You forget that De Chemerant's escort is considerable; the negro fishermen have gone--there are not more than four or five men here. Violent means are impossible. Providence doubtless wills that I shall expiate a great crime. I will be resigned." "A crime, James? guilty of a great crime? I will never believe it!" cried Angela. "If my crime was involuntary, it was none the less horrible. Angela, it is now my duty to tell you what I owe to Sidney, your noble relative who took such care of you in your infancy, poor orphan! While you were receiving your education in France, where he had himself taken you, Sidney, whom I had seen in Holland, attached himself to my fortunes; a singular similarity of tastes, of principles and thoughts, had drawn us together; but he was so proud that I was obliged to make the advances. How happy I was at having first pressed his hand! Never was there a living soul as beautiful as Sidney's. Never was there a nobler character or a more generous and ardent heart! Dreaming of the happiness of the people, deceived as I was myself as to the true end of my plans, he believed that he was serving the holy cause of humanity, when he was in reality only serving the fatal ambition of a man! While the conspiracy was organizing, he was my most active emissary and my most intimate confidant. To describe to you, my child, the profound, blind attachment of Sidney for myself would be impossible; one affection only struggled in his heart with that which he had vowed to me; it was his tenderness for you--you, his distant relative of whom he had assumed the care. Oh! how he cherished you! Through all the agitations, and the perils of his life as a soldier and conspirator, he always found some moments in which to visit his Angela. There were ever tears in his eyes when he spoke to me of you. Yes, this man, of intrepid courage and indomitable energy, wept like a child in speaking of your tender grace, the qualities of your heart, and your sad and studious youth, poor little abandoned one, for you had no one in the world but Sidney. On that fatal day at Bridgewater he commanded my cavalry. After prodigies of valor, he was left for dead on the battlefield; as for me, carried away in a rush of flying troops, grievously wounded, it was impossible for me to find him." "Was not that the day when he died?" said Angela, wiping her eyes. "Listen, Angela; oh, you do not know how these sad memories break my heart!" "And ours also," said Croustillac. "Brave Sidney! I do not know what it is that tells me that he did not die that day at Bridgewater, and that we shall hear of him again."