“None whatever. Let us trust, therefore, that he has died penitent, and that his sufferings are already over; and let us pray, ere we lay us down to sleep, that his sins may be forgiven to him, and that his soul may have rest.” “Amen!” replied the boy, solemnly, at the same moment that the ecclesiastic repeated the same word--though he did so, as it would seem, less from the heart, and more as a matter of course. Nothing further was said on that subject, and in truth the conversation ceased altogether. A gloom was cast over the spirits of all present, both by the imagination of the horrors which were in progress at that very moment, and by the recollection of the preceding enormities of which this was but the consummation; but the young viscount Raoul was so completely engrossed by the deep thoughts which that conversation had awakened in his mind, that his father, who was a very close observer, and correct judge of human nature, almost regretted that he had spoken, and determined, if possible, to divert him from the gloomy revery into which he had fallen. “Viscount,” said he, after a silence which had endured now for many minutes, “when did you last wait upon Mademoiselle Melanie d’Argenson?” Raoul’s eyes brightened at the name, and again the bright blush, which I noticed before, crossed his ingenuous features; but this time it was pleasure, not embarrassment, which colored his young face so vividly. “I called yesterday, sir,” he answered, “but she was abroad with the countess, her mother. In truth, I have not seen her since Friday last.” “Why, that is an age, Raoul! Are you not dying to see her again by this time? At your age, I was far more gallant.” “With your permission, sir, I will go now and make my compliments to her.” “Not only my permission, Raoul, but my advice to make your best haste thither. If you go straightways, you will be sure to find her at home, for the ladies are sure not to have ventured abroad with all this uproar in the streets. Take Martin the equerry with you, and three of the grooms. What will you ride--the new Barb I bought for you last week! Yes! as well him as any; and, hark you, boy, tell them to send Martin to me first: I will speak to him while you are beautifying yourself to please the _beaux yeux_ of Mademoiselle Melanie.” “I am not sure that you are doing wisely, Louis,” said the lady--as her son left the saloon, her eye following him wistfully--“in bringing Raoul up as you are doing.” “Nor I, Marie,” replied her husband, gravely; “we poor, blind mortals can not be sure of anything, least of all of anything the ends of which are incalculably distant. But in what particular do you doubt the wisdom of my method?” “In talking to him as you do, as though he were a man already; in opening his eyes so widely to the sins and vices of the world; in discussing questions with him such as those you spoke of with him but now. He is a mere boy, you will remember, to hear tell of such things!”