A horrible silence followed this act of Ourson. Violette fell on her knees with her arms extended towards the burning house, Agnella with her hands clasped looked with straining eyes at the opening through which Ourson had entered while Passerose was motionless, hiding her face with her hands. Some moments passed thus and they appeared ages to the three women who were expecting a sentence of life or death. Ourson did not reappear. The crackling of the burning wood, the flashing of the flames, increased in violence. Suddenly, a frightful noise made Violette and Agnella utter a cry of despair. The roof, covered with flames, had fallen in and Ourson was buried under the ruins--crushed by the ruins, consumed by the fire. The silence of death succeeded this dreadful catastrophe. The flames diminished, then died away--no sound now interrupted the despair of Agnella and Violette. Violette had fallen into the arms of Agnella and they sobbed thus a long time in silence. Passerose contemplated the smoking ruins and wept. Poor Ourson was buried there a victim of his courage and his devotion! Agnella and Violette still wept bitterly; they appeared neither to hear nor understand what was passing around them. "Let us leave this place," said Passerose, at last. Agnella and Violette made no response. Passerose tried to lead Violette away. "Come," said she; "come, Violette, let us seek a shelter for the night--the evening fortunately is mild." "What shelter do I want?" said Violette. "What is the evening to me or the morning? There are no more beautiful days for me! The sun will shine no more but to illumine my despair!" "But if we remain here weeping we shall die of hunger, Violette, and in spite of the bitterest grief, we must think of the necessities of life." "Better to die of hunger than of grief! I will not leave this place where I saw my dear Ourson for the last time--where he perished, a victim of his tenderness for us." Passerose shrugged her shoulders; she remembered that the stable had not been burned so she ran there with all speed, milked the cow, drank a cupful of milk and tried in vain to make Agnella and Violette do the same. Agnella rose and said to Violette in a solemn tone: "Your grief is just, my daughter. Never did a more noble or generous heart beat in a human form than Ourson's and he loved you more than he loved himself--to spare your grief he sacrificed his happiness and his life." Agnella now recounted to Violette the scene which preceded Ourson's birth, the power Violette had to deliver him from his deformity by accepting it for herself and Ourson's constant prayer that Violette should never be informed of the possibility of such a sacrifice. It is easy to comprehend the feelings of loving tenderness and regret which filled the heart of Violette after this confidence and she wept more bitterly than ever.