The priest stood for a few minutes in the middle of the room, apparently overpowered by emotion. He said, "One person must forgive you, Madame, and that person is the individual whose life you have made miserable, whom you have made use of to strike this innocent man;" and he pointed to the Count. "I, as well as the Duke, was in the adjoining room, and have heard all. That pardon I give you." The Duchess said, "Then Rovero, too, forgives me;" before she had finished his name, Monte-Leone clasped Taddeo in his arms. Two days after, a funeral portage proceeded to a place of eternal rest. Three men followed a body to the grave. They were Monte-Leone, the Duke d'Harcourt, and the Abbé Rovero. Love and friendship having been both betrayed, as he thought, Taddeo sought for consolation in religion. The Divinity, he knew, did not betray those who love him. A fugitive and an outlaw, he had sought refuge in a seminary, and subsequently had become a priest. Chance had assigned him to a church near La Felina's house, and he had been pointed out by the Duchess's confidential servant, as a priest worthy her mistress's confidence. Heaven had accomplished the rest. All Paris, at that time, was filled with a strange report, and with amazement learned the truth in relation to Monte-Leone. A letter from the Duke d'Harcourt appeared in the journals of the day and unfolded this terrible drama. The Duke told Paris and all Europe, what he had overheard in the Duchess's boudoir. It said, if any voice should do justice to this injured man, it is that of a father who wrongfully accused him of being the death of a son. The moral reaction in favor of the Count was as sudden as the censure the world had heaped on him had been. The person who, next to Monte-Leone, enjoyed this complete reparation, was the adorable woman who had never doubted the honor of the man she loved. The King sent for the Duke d'Harcourt; he understood and participated in the grief of an unfortunate father, for he, also, had lost the heir of his throne. When the old noble left the King he bore with him the pardon of René's young friend, the generous Von Apsberg. The Duke went to the conciergerie, and on the Doctor, in his gratitude, asking after Marie, the former said, "She is a patient who will give you a great deal of trouble, both her health and her heart being seriously affected. You will have two grave diseases to attend to, and the husband must assist the physician." EPILOGUE.