“‘This amount,’ she continued, ‘is not a quarter part of the former income from our family estates. But now, who knows but it will, one day, be the only resource of the Sairmeuse? I am going to place it in your charge, Lacheneur. I confide it to your honor and to your devotion. The estates belonging to the emigrants are to be sold, I hear. If such an act of injustice is committed, you will probably be able to purchase our property for seventy thousand francs. If the property is sold by the government, purchase it; if the lands belonging to the emigrants are not sold, take that amount to the duke, my brother, who is with the Count d’Artois. The surplus, that is to say, the ten thousand francs remaining, I give to you--they are yours.’ “She seemed to recover her strength. She raised herself in bed, and, holding the crucifix attached to her rosary to my lips, she said: “‘Swear by the image of our Saviour, that you will faithfully execute the last will of your dying godmother.’ “I took the required oath, and an expression of satisfaction overspread her features. “‘That is well,’ she said; ‘I shall die content. You will have a protector on high. But this is not all. In times like these in which we live, this gold will not be safe in your hands unless those about you are ignorant that you possess it. I have been endeavoring to discover some way by which you could remove it from my room, and from the chateau, without the knowledge of anyone; and I have found a way. The gold is here in this cupboard, at the head of my bed, in a stout oaken chest. You must find strength to move the chest--you must. You can fasten a sheet around it and let it down gently from the window into the garden. You will then leave the house as you entered it, and as soon as you are outside, you must take the chest and carry it to your home. The night is very dark, and no one will see you, if you are careful. But make haste; my strength is nearly gone.’ “The chest was heavy, but I was very strong. “In less than ten minutes the task of removing the chest from the chateau was accomplished, without a single sound that would betray us. As I closed the window, I said: “‘It is done, godmother.’ “‘God be praised!’ she whispered; ‘Sairmeuse is saved!’ “I heard a deep sigh. I turned; she was dead.” This scene that M. Lacheneur was relating rose vividly before him. To feign, to disguise the truth, or to conceal any portion of it was an impossibility. He forgot himself and his daughter; he thought only of the dead woman, of Mlle. Armande de Sairmeuse. And he shuddered on pronouncing the words: “She was dead.” It seemed to him that she was about to speak, and to insist upon the fulfilment of his pledge. After a moment’s silence, he resumed, in a hollow voice: