He saw in this startling coincidence a terrible providential retribution. His first thought was to go at once and assassinate Erebus, but, urged by a consuming curiosity, he desired to discover all the secrets of this guilty connection. So he continued to read the letters contained in the casket. The next letter, written by Madame de Montreuil, was also addressed to the Commander des Anbiez. _Third Letter_, “December 14th, one o’clock in the morning. “God has had pity on me. “The unfortunate child lives; if he continues to live, he will live only for you,--only for me. “My women are safe; this house is isolated, far from all help. To-morrow I shall send to the village for the venerable Abbé de Saint-Maurice,--another lie,--a sacrilegious lie! “I will tell him that this unfortunate child died in birth. Justine has already engaged a nurse; this nurse is waiting in the house occupied by the guard of the crossroads. This evening she will take the poor little being with her. This evening she will depart for Languedoc, as we have agreed upon. “Oh, to be separated from my child, who has cost me so many tears, so much sorrow, and such despair! To be separated from it for ever! Ah, I dare not, I cannot complain! It is the least expiation of my crime. “Poor little creature, I have covered it with my tears, with my kisses; it is innocent of all this sin. Ah, dreadful, how dreadful it is! I shall not survive these heartrending emotions. That is all my hope. God will take me from this earth,--yes,--but to damn me in eternity! “Ah, I do not wish to die; no, I do not wish to die! Oh, pity, pity, mercy! “I have just recovered from a long fainting-fit Peyrou will carry this letter to you; send him back without delay.” The next letter announced to the commander that the sacrifice had been completed. _Fourth Letter_. “December 15th, ten o’clock in the morning. “All is over. This morning the Abbé de Saint-Maurice came. “My women told him that the child was dead, and that I, in my despair, had wished, in pious resignation, to shroud it myself in its coffin. “You know that this poor priest is very old; and, besides, he has known me from my birth, and has a blind confidence in me, and not for a moment did he suspect this impious lie. “He prayed over an empty coffin! “Sacrilege, sacrilege! “Oh, God will be without pity! At last the coffin was carried and buried in our family chapel. “Yesterday, in the night, for the last time I embraced this unfortunate child, now abandoned, now without a name. Now the shame and remorse of those who have given it birth will ever-- “I could not give him up--I could not. Alas! it was always a kiss,--just a last kiss. When Justine snatched it from my arms it uttered a pitiful cry. “Oh, that feeble wail of sorrow reëchoes in the depths of my soul; what a fatal omen!