George, Sacrovir and Velleda rose together and drew near their mother. "Singular," she pondered aloud and not without some signs of uneasiness as she examined the envelope which she was unsealing. "This letter must come from Rochefort, like all the others, and yet it is not stamped." "Perhaps," observed George, "Monsieur Lebrenn commissioned someone who was leaving Rochefort to bring it to you." "And that must have been the cause of the delay," added Sacrovir. "That is the explanation." Feeling not a little alarmed at the unusual occurrence, Madam Lebrenn hastened to open the letter, which she proceeded to read aloud to her children: "Dearly beloved friend, embrace our children in the name of a bit of good news, that will surprise you as much as it will make you happy--I have hopes of seeing you soon--" When the merchant's wife uttered these words it became impossible for her to continue reading. Her children gathered around her and threw their arms about her neck with shouts of joy, too many and loud to reproduce, while George and Jeanike, standing at a respectful distance, shared the general family glee. "Dear children, be sensible--do not let us rejoice too soon," cautioned Madam Lebrenn. "Your father only expresses a hope to us. God knows how often our hopes of an amnesty have been dashed!" "Oh, mother! Mother! Quick! Read on! finish the letter!" exclaimed the children in all keys of impatience. "We shall soon see whether the hope is well founded." Madam Lebrenn proceeded to read her husband's letter: "I have hopes of seeing you soon again--sooner perhaps than you may imagine--" "Do you see, mother, do you see!" cried the children, trembling with joy and clasping their hands as if in prayer. "Good God! Good God! Is it possible! We are to see him soon again!" exclaimed Madam Lebrenn, wiping from her eyes the tears that darkened them, and she proceeded reading: "When I say I _hope_, my dearly beloved friend, I mean more than a mere hope; it is in fact a certainty. I should, perhaps, have begun my letter by giving you this assurance; but, however well aware I am of your self-possession, I feared lest too sudden a surprise might hurt you and our children. By this time, I consider, your minds are quite familiarized with the idea of seeing me soon, very soon, not so? Accordingly, I now feel free to promise you--" "Why, mother," broke in George interrupting the reading of the letter, "Monsieur Lebrenn must be in Paris!" "In Paris!" the family cried in chorus. "The letter bears no stamp," proceeded George excitedly. "Monsieur Lebrenn has arrived--and he sent the letter ahead with a messenger." "There can be no doubt! George is right," put in Madam Lebrenn. And she read rapidly the rest of the missive: