“I see you understand me, and approve. Yes, I saw that your sister would be dishonored, and I went to the army and saw her seducer.” “You saw HIM. Oh, I hope you did not go and speak to him of--of this?” “Why, of course I did.” Josephine resolved to know the worst at once. “May I ask,” said she, “what you told him?” “Why, I told him all I had discovered, and pointed out the course he must take; he must marry your sister at once. He refused. I challenged him. But ere we met, I was ordered to lead a forlorn hope against a bastion. Then, seeing me go to certain death, the noble fellow pitied me. I mean this is how I understood it all at the time; at any rate, he promised to marry Rose if he should live.” Josephine put out her hand, and with a horrible smile said, “I thank you; you have saved the honor of our family;” and with no more ado, she took the glass in her hand to drink the fatal contents. But Raynal’s reply arrested her hand. He said solemnly, “No, I have not. Have you no inkling of the terrible truth? Do not fiddle with that glass: drink it, or leave it alone; for, indeed, I need all your attention.” He took the glass out of her patient hand, and with a furtive look at the bedroom-door, drew her away to the other end of the room; “and,” said he, “I could not tell your mother, for she knows nothing of the girl’s folly; still less Rose, for I see she loves him still, or why is she so pale? Advise me, now, whilst we are alone. Colonel Dujardin was COMPARATIVELY indifferent to YOU. Will you undertake the task? A rough soldier like me is not the person to break the terrible tidings to that poor girl.” “What tidings? You confuse, you perplex me. Oh! what does this horrible preparation mean?” “It means he will never marry your sister; he will never see her more.” Then Raynal walked the room in great agitation, which at once communicated itself to his hearer. But the loving heart is ingenious in avoiding its dire misgivings. “I see,” said she; “he told you he would never visit Beaurepaire again. He was right.” Raynal shook his head sorrowfully. “Ah, Josephine, you are far from the truth. I was to attack the bastion. It was mined by the enemy, and he knew it. He took advantage of my back being turned. He led his men out of the trenches; he assaulted the bastion at the head of his brigade. He took it.” “Ah, it was noble; it was like him.” “The enemy, retiring, blew the bastion into the air, and Dujardin--is dead.” “Dead!” said Josephine, in stupefied tones, as if the word conveyed no meaning to her mind, benumbed and stunned by the blow. “Don’t speak so loud,” said Raynal; “I hear the poor girl at the door. Ay, he took my place, and is dead.” “Dead!” “Swallowed up in smoke and flames, overwhelmed and crushed under the ruins.” Josephine’s whole body gave way, and heaved like a tree falling under the axe. She sank slowly to her knees, and low moans of agony broke from her at intervals. “Dead, dead, dead!”