“Hush! hold your tongue,” said Jacques, “and don’t say a word about what you see here. Go back to the house with the child and my sister.--Go, have no fear, I will answer for everything.--Sans-Souci, take my sister to the house; and above all, the most absolute silence.” Sans-Souci promised, and walked a few steps away, tremendously surprised by all that he saw. Adeline was terrified by the risks that Edouard ran, but he himself implored her to abandon him to his unhappy fate. He pressed her hand to his heart, kissed his daughter’s hand, and turned away from them, while, at a sign from his comrade, Sans-Souci led Adeline and Ermance toward the house. “They have gone and we are alone,” said Jacques to his brother, when Adeline was out of sight; “are you the man they are looking for?” “Yes; a little way from here, in a wine shop I had entered to ask for help, a man who used to be a keeper at the galleys at Toulon, happened to be drinking at a table; he examined me closely, and I went out, afraid of being recognized; but I see now that it was too late; my fate is sealed; but I am less unhappy than I was; I have seen my daughter, my wife has forgiven me, and you--oh! I entreat you, brother, forgive me too!” “Yes,” said Jacques, “I will forgive you; but you must--wretched man! do you know what the punishment is that awaits you? You must die upon the scaffold; and the scandal of your infamous death will make our shame eternal! Will you never have the courage to do anything but commit crimes? will you never be able to do what the honor of your wife and your child has made it your duty to do for a long while? You shudder, weak man! you await the executioner; remember that you cannot avoid falling into the hands of the law again! Great God! and you are not weary of a life dragged out in infamy and misery!” “I understand you,” said Edouard; “be sure that death will be a blessing to me; but before going down into the grave, I wanted to let you know that I repent; now give me the means of escaping my punishment; I will hesitate no longer.” Jacques motioned to Edouard to wait for him; he hurried to his study, took his pistols and returned to the garden. He saw his brother kneeling beside the small barred gate. He handed him the weapons with a firm hand and Edouard took them. “Now,” said Jacques, “come, unhappy man! let us embrace for the last time. Your brother pardons your crimes, and he will come every day to pray to Heaven on your grave.” Edouard threw himself into his brother’s arms; they embraced a long while; but at last, Edouard walked a few steps away, a report rang out,--the miserable wretch had ceased to live. Jacques went to his brother’s body, and summoning all his courage, although his tears fell rapidly, he hastily dug a grave at the foot of a willow tree near the little gate. Sans-Souci arrived and surprised his comrade in that melancholy occupation. “Help me,” said Jacques, “it’s my brother.”