"Patience, patience! my beloved husband! To-morrow I will carry you--where? I neither know nor care--to the paradise of our love. Meanwhile I am here." Canolles took her in his arms and strained her to his breast. She threw her arms around his neck and lay unresistingly, trembling with agitation, against that heart, which was scarcely beating, so oppressed was it by conflicting emotions. Suddenly, for the second time, a heart-breaking sob shook her frame, and happy as she was, her tears fell thick and fast upon Canolles' face. "Well, well!" said he, "is this your cheerfulness, my poor dear angel?" "It is the last remnant of my sorrow." As she spoke the door opened, and the same officer announced that the half-hour had expired. "Adieu!" whispered Canolles; "or rather hide me in the folds of your cloak, and take me with you!" "Hush, dear love!" she replied, in a low tone, "for you break my heart! Do you not see that I am dying with longing to do it? Be patient for your own sake, and for mine. In a few hours we shall meet again never to part." "I am patient," said Canolles, joyfully, completely comforted by this assurance; "but we must part now. Courage, my dear, and let us say adieu. Adieu, Claire, adieu!" "Adieu!" said she, trying to smile; "ad--" But she could not complete the cruel word. For the third time her voice was stifled with sobs. "Adieu! adieu!" cried Canolles, seizing her in his arms anew, and covering her brow with burning kisses, "adieu!" "The devil!" muttered the officer, "luckily I know that the poor fellow has no great reason to fear, or this scene would break my heart!" He escorted Claire to the door and then returned. "Now, monsieur," said he to Canolles, who had fallen back upon a chair, exhausted by his emotion, "it's not enough for you to be happy, you must be compassionate too. Your neighbor, your unfortunate fellow-prisoner, who is to die, is entirely alone; no one is interested in him, and he has no one to comfort him. He desires to see you. I have taken it upon myself to allow him to do so, but your consent also is necessary." "My consent!" cried Canolles, "oh! I give it willingly. Poor devil! I await him with open arms! I do not know him, but that makes no difference." "He seems to know you, however." "Is he aware of the fate in store for him?" "No, I think not. You understand that he must be left in ignorance of it." "Oh! never fear." "Listen, then: eleven o'clock will soon strike, and I shall return to the guard-house; after eleven o'clock the jailers are supreme in the interior of the prison. Your jailer has been warned that your neighbor will be with you, and he will come here for him when it is time for him to return to his own cell. If he knows nothing, tell him nothing; if he does know, tell him from us that we soldiers all pity him from the bottom of our hearts. To die is nothing, but _sacrebleu!_ to be hanged is to die twice over." "Is it decided that he is to die?"