“But it is on one condition, Guy, that you will leave me my child? Oh! I beg of you, I entreat you not to take him from me; leave him to me. What is a mother without her child? You are anxious to give him an illustrious name, an immense fortune. No! You tell me that this sacrifice will be for his good. No! My child is mine; I will keep him. The world has no honours, no riches, which can replace a mother’s love. You wish to give me in exchange, that other woman’s child. Never! What! you would have that woman embrace my boy! It is impossible. Take away this strange child from me; he fills me with horror; I want my own! Ah, do not insist, do not threaten me with anger, do not leave me. I should give in, and then, I should die. Guy, forget this fatal project, the thought of it alone is a crime. Cannot my prayers, my tears, can nothing move you? Ah, well, God will punish us. All will be discovered. The day will come when these children will demand a fearful reckoning. Guy, I foresee the future; I see my son coming towards me, justly angered. What does he say, great heaven! Oh, those letters, those letters, sweet memories of our love! My son, he threatens me! He strikes me! Ah, help! A son strike his mother. Tell no one of it, though. O my God, what torture! Yet he knows well that I am his mother. He pretends not to believe me. Lord, this is too much! Guy! pardon! oh, my only friend! I have neither the power to resist, nor the courage to obey you.” At this moment the door opening on to the landing opened, and Noel appeared, pale as usual, but calm and composed. The dying woman saw him, and the sight affected her like an electric shock. A terrible shudder shook her frame; her eyes grew inordinately large, her hair seemed to stand on end. She raised herself on her pillows, stretched out her arm in the direction where Noel stood, and in a loud voice exclaimed, “Assassin!” She fell back convulsively on the bed. Some one hastened forward: she was dead. A deep silence prevailed. Such is the majesty of death, and the terror which accompanies it, that, in its presence, even the strongest and most sceptical bow their heads. For a time, passions and interests are forgotten. Involuntarily we are drawn together, when some mutual friend breathes his last in our presence. All the bystanders were deeply moved by this painful scene, this last confession, wrested so to say from the delirium. And the last word uttered by Madame Gerdy, “assassin,” surprised no one. All, excepting the nun, knew of the awful accusation which had been made against Albert. To him they applied the unfortunate mother’s malediction. Noel seemed quite broken hearted. Kneeling by the bedside of her who had been as a mother to him, he took one of her hands, and pressed it close to his lips. “Dead!” he groaned, “she is dead!” The nun and the priest knelt beside him, and repeated in a low voice the prayers for the dead.