"Horrible! horrible! What possessed her to use a drug so deadly?" he thought, wildly. "Oh, it can not be true! I shall find her awake and waiting for me, the poor lamb! Madame Lorraine only invented that story to torture me." He spoke feverishly to the driver: "Faster, faster!" The man replied, in a conciliatory tone: "Monsieur, I dare not. I should be arrested for fast driving, and your speed would be hindered, not helped, by such a course." He knew that it was true, and with a groan sunk back in his seat and resigned himself with what patience he could to the moderate pace of the horses. It seemed hours, although it was but thirty minutes, before they drew up again before the dark, grim building where he had left his charge the night before. The janitor admitted him without any parley this time; but Carmontelle was so eager that he did not notice the solemn, sympathetic look with which the man regarded him. He rushed without delay to the presence of the mother superior. When she saw him, her countenance expressed the greatest dismay. She crossed herself piously and ejaculated, sorrowfully: "Oh, monsieur, monsieur, you have come at last!" "Madame, holy mother!" he cried, agitatedly, and paused, unable to proceed further. Something in her face and voice filled him with dread. "Oh, my son!" she uttered, sorrowfully, and speech, too, seemed to fail her. She regarded him in a pathetic silence mixed with deep pity. He made a great effort to speak, to overcome the horror that bound him hand and foot. A terrible fear was upon him. What if she had not wakened yet? With that awful thought, he gasped and spoke: "Where is she?" "Oh, _mon Dieu_! oh, holy Mother of Jesus, comfort him!" cried the good nun, piously. She advanced and touched him compassionately. "God help you, my poor son. She--she--has not awakened--yet." He turned his pale, frightened face toward her. "She sleeps?" he questioned, eagerly; and with a holy compassion in her trembling voice, she replied: "Yes, my son, she sleeps--in Jesus." "Dead?" he almost shrieked, and she answered, solemnly: "Yes." She thought he was about to faint, his face grew so pale and his form reeled so unsteadily; but he threw out one hand and caught the back of a chair to sustain himself, while a hollow groan came from his lips: "Too late!" With tears in her eyes, the good nun continued: "The little girl never awakened from the deep sleep in which you brought her here. We made every effort to arouse her, but all in vain. She sunk deeper and deeper into lethargy, her breathing growing fainter and fainter, and at last it ceased altogether." "When?" he questioned, huskily. "Three hours ago," she replied.