"Always Edmond," sobbed she, "never otherwise, only that my grief has burst out too violently. Why do you not understand me? Is your heart incased in some hard metal that no feeling can penetrate it? Do not believe that, on that account, I have neglected my mass or vesper to implore the God of mercy to enlighten these wretches and to succour these poor persecuted creatures, and that he may also strengthen myself? Mark me, Edmond, although I do not belong to the community of Huguenots, but if all these murderers were extirpated in a second by one tremendous blow, our church should institute a festival of thanksgiving that this stigma was removed from her, and her holy banner would be no more dishonoured." "I understand you now," said Edmond.--They had stepped into the antechamber, "by heaven, I shall soon give up all society and rather hold communion with stones than with men." He took his gun indignantly from the wall, "How wild, Edmond, how obstinate," said she softly, "is it then not permitted that men should understand, in love at least, their confused Babilonean language? disembodied spirits only love--and you say indeed that I have a place in your heart!" "Love!" exclaimed Edmond, "accursed word! execrable equivocation and madness of mankind! this old misunderstanding, love, this detestable riddle of the sphynx, that no one has unriddled and for which thousands have bled--damnation!" He gnashed his teeth and dashed his gun on the ground, so that it went off and the shot passed through the ceiling. The women and servants of the Lady Christine hastened towards her; he looked at her, she was not injured and smiled at him sorrowfully as he rushed out of the door and to his parting salute only answered by a strange shake of the head, so that her dark tresses were loosened and shaded her face. She pressed them to her weeping eyes and went silently to the garden and out into the fresh night air. CHAPTER III. The Lord of Beauvais was walking up and down in his garden conversing on various subjects with his friend; as often as they passed the little open summer house, Eveline called out to them and directed their attention to the building, which she was trying to imitate with cards. The Counsellor of Parliament was violently struggling with his feelings, and his friend was trying in vain to tranquillise him. "I have never yet seen you so obstinate," said the latter, at length, almost impatiently; "what is it then at last, Edmond is a young man like many others, let him exhaust his ardour, at a later period he will afford you satisfaction, for do we not recognise in him strength, character, and a noble heart, and these must certainly produce something good hereafter."