George was an anxious as Norbert to bring this painful scene to a close, for anything was preferable to this hideous state of suspense. The last despairing glance of the Duchess had pierced his heart like a dagger thrust, and when he saw Norbert thrust aside his trembling wife with such brutality, it was all he could do to refrain from striking him down. He made no choice of weapons, but grasped the nearest, saying,-- “One will do as well as another.” “We cannot fight in this darkness,” said Norbert, “but I have a means to remedy that. Come with me this way, so that we may avoid the observation of the porter.” They went into the stables, where he took up a large lantern, which he lighted. “This,” said he, “will afford ample light for our work.” “Ah, but the neighbors will see it, too; and at this hour a light in the garden is sure to attract attention,” observed George. “Don’t be afraid; my grounds are not overlooked.” They entered the garden, and soon reached the spot to which the Duke had alluded. Norbert hung the lantern on the bough of a tree, and it gave the same amount of light as an ordinary street lamp. “We will dig the grave in that corner,” observed he; “and when it is filled in, we can cover it with that heap of stones over there.” He threw off his great coat, and, handing a spade to Croisenois, took another himself, repeating firmly the words,-- “To work! To work!” Croisenois would have toiled all night before he could have completed the task, but the muscles of the Duke were hardened by his former laborious life, and in forty minutes all was ready. “That will do,” said Norbert, exchanging his spade for a sword. “Take your guard.” Croisenois, however, did not immediately obey. Impressible by nature, he felt a cold shiver run through his frame; the dark night, the flickering lantern, and all these preparations, made in so cold-blooded a manner, affected his nerves. The grave, with its yawning mouth, fascinated him. “Well,” said Norbert impatiently, “are you not ready?” “I will speak,” exclaimed De Croisenois, driven to desperation. “In a few minutes one of us will be lying dead on this spot. In the presence of death a man’s words are to be relied on. Listen to me. I swear to you, on my honor and by all my hopes of future salvation, that the Duchess de Champdoce is entirely free from guilt.” “You have said that before; why repeat it again?” “Because it is my duty; because I am thinking that, if I die, it will be my insane passions that have caused the ruin of one of the best and purest women in the world. I entreat you to believe that she has nothing to repent of. See, I am not ashamed to descend to entreaty. Let my death, if you kill me, be an expiation for everything. Be gentle with your wife; and if you survive me, do not make her life one prolonged existence of agony.” “Silence, or I shall look upon you as a dastard,” returned Norbert fiercely.