St. Udo left the hapless pair together, and strode to the doorway of the shed for a breath of Heaven's pure air; the despair, the misery behind him were wringing his heart, adamantine as he was wont to call it. St. Udo suddenly heard the beat of hoofs, and in a moment a Confederate officer dashed in front of the tent and reined up. "_Eh bien! Monsieur, mon ami_," chirped a familiar voice. "Well met, my colonel. _Par ma foi._ I like this extravagantly--yes." And the Chevalier de Calembours, dismounting from a magnificent war-horse, performed a profound obeisance. "You unhanged villain!" shouted St. Udo, scornfully. A white face peered out from behind Colonel Brand. Madam Estvan glided out, and put a nervous hand upon the chevalier's arm. "Come here," whispered the wan lips, sadly. He went with her into the tent, and looked at the sweet young face, sealed with the smile of death, of a noble soldier lad. "Colonel Calembours, look at your son," whispered madam. The chevalier grew ghastly white. Truly this fair, smiling dead bore his own sin-coarsened lineaments; but the woman! Who was she? Just then there were heard shouts mingled with firing, and, ere the chevalier's eyes had time to light upon that beautiful face, a random ball struck him down at her feet. Like a bolt of retribution from Heaven, it laid him across the senseless clay of his deserted son. And, with a shriek that tingled in the shocked St. Udo's ears, the lovely woman sank beside her dead, and the dark blood of her perfidious husband oozed onto her dainty robes, and washed her trembling hands; and, turning to the battle, he saw no more. In half an hour St. Udo led back his soldiers, and found her still there, with the senseless man's head in her lap, and her soft hands deftly dressing his gaping wound. "He will live," said she, quite calmly. "I have snatched him back from death; he will live for me." "Can you forgive such perfidy as his?" asked the wondering St. Udo. "Yes, if he will take me to his heart again," she said, with a flash of ineffable yearning. "I will forget his indifference to me, his injustice to this dead boy. I will be happy to be his bond slave, if he will own me as his wife evermore, for--I love him." How passionately she breathed the sublime words, "I love him!" How God-like was the forgiveness of such sins as his for such a plea! St. Udo forced some drops of brandy into his unfortunate comrade's lips, and in time had the satisfaction to hear a deep sigh escape him. "Calembours," exclaimed St. Udo, "look up and speak to this noble woman." The chevalier opened his eyes, and strove to see her through the dim gloom, but vainly. "My husband!" breathed the lady, with bitter tears, "will you cast me off for the third time? Ah, don't break my heart! My poor Edgar is dead, and I have not a soul but you, and after all these years of separation. Oh, Ladislaus!" Her face sank on his breast, she clung to him with both eager hands.