Helen went straight to her accustomed chapel. The statue of the Virgin stood in its place, silent, smiling, decked with gold lace and jewels, and crowned with diamonds. At her feet Helen recognized the wreath of white roses that she had hung there on the day when she had come with Karl and sworn to him to love him always and to die with him. The day to keep her vow had come, and she was here to tell the Virgin of her readiness to keep her promise, as though that promise were not an impiety. Then, as if that were all that she had to do, she made a short prayer, kissed the Holy Mother's feet, and went out again to the porch of the church. The weather had cleared a little. For the moment rain had ceased to fall, and a gleam of blue shone between two clouds. The air was full of electricity. The thunder was roaring in noisy outbursts and the flashes threw their blue light almost uninterruptedly upon the pavement and the houses. Helen left the church. Lenhart hurried forward with his carriage for her to get in. "I feel stifled," said she, "let me walk a little." "I will follow you, madam," said Lenhart. "As you please," she answered. Eight o'clock was chiming from the cathedral. * * * * * At the same hour Benedict was just entering Helen's room where Karl lay in his shroud. The two women, who had been entrusted with that pious duty, were praying by the bed, but Helen was absent. Benedict began by looking in every direction, expecting to see her praying in some corner, but not perceiving her in any, he enquired where she could be. One of the women replied: "She went out an hour ago, saying that she would go to the Church of Notre Dame de la Croix." "How was she dressed?" asked Benedict. "And," he added, with an uneasy presentiment, "did she not say anything or leave any message for me?" "Are you the gentleman called M. Benedict?" returned the woman who had answered his previous questions. "Yes," said he. "Then here is a letter for you." She handed him the note that Helen had left. He opened it hastily. It contained only these few lines: "MY BELOVED BROTHER, "I promised Karl, before Notre Dame de la Croix, not to outlive him; Karl is dead, and I am about to die. "If my body is recovered, see, my dear Benedict, that it is placed in my husband's coffin; this was the reason why I asked you to have it made wide. I hope that God will permit me to sleep in it by Karl's side throughout eternity. "I bequeath a thousand florins to the person who finds my body, if it should be some boatman or fisherman, or poor man with a family. If it should be some person who cannot or will not accept the money, I leave him my last blessing. "The morrow of Karl's death is the day of mine. "My farewells to all who love me." "HELEN."