and he fell back in his corner, with haggard eyes
and half-opened mouth, without recognising his
sister or giving any sign that could be so
interpreted. Eugénie rapidly changed his wet
clothes, forced him to swallow a restorative
cordial, and treated him with all the care of a
devoted mother. Life and warmth gradually
returned to his limbs, but not consciousness.
Eugénie's caresses and voice were powerless to
render him sensible.

The secret of the terrible night-affray had
been perfectly kept, in spite of the number of
actors who had taken part in it. Eugénie felt
assured that no one would betray her in respect
to Philibert's presence in her house, and she
frankly confessed to two of her neighbours that
she required their assistance to save her brother.
After listening to what she had to say, the elder
of those persons convinced her that it would be
an act of unpardonable imprudence to make
any attempt by day. Margaret remained with
Philibert as his nurse and keeper, and the following
night a light cart covered with a thick
awning, and with the iron tier removed from the
wheels as well as the shoes from the horse's
feet, drove into Eugénie's court-yard. As
soon as the gate was closed, Eugénie stepped
out, the horse was unharnessed, the shafts were
softly let down on the ground, and Philibert,
who was fast asleep, was carefully lifted out on
a bed of dry straw.

The poor lunatic was taken to his chamber.
A fortnight passed without bringing the slightest
change in Poor Uncle Philibert's moral
condition. The doctors pronounced him fallen into
the lowest degree of idiotism, and said that
the best thing that could be done would be to
take him to an asylum. Eugénie would listen
to no such proposition. Although resigned to
the blow, she still retained hope. But ah!
nothing short of a miracle could cure Poor Uncle
Philibert now.

Two days after the consultation of the doctors
everybody was asleep in Eugénie's house. The
clocks were just striking midnight, when the
mournful sound of the tocsin bell, and the
rolling of drums giving the alarm, re-echoed
through the town of Lure. A fire had broken
out in a group of old houses at the back of
the principal street, almost in the centre of
the town, in the northern quarter, and a high
north-west wind was blowing. Eugénie, starting
out of her sleep at the shouts of alarm
around her dwelling, apprehended their effect
upon her brother, and hurried to his chamber.
The room was empty! The sound of
the bells and the noise of the drums had
already aroused Uncle Philibert. Giving way
to the strange fascination which compelled him
to rush into the midst of danger—what path, of
all others, had he selected? He was found
running along the roof-ridge of a house in flames,
whose upper story was occupied by an infirm old
woman and her granddaughter, ten years of age.
With marvellous address he slipped in at the
attic window, and reappeared in instant afterwards
holding the poor old woman under his
left arm. Creeping along the roof, he
succeeded in depositing his burden against a
chimney more than a hundred paces distant
from the house on fire.  When he drew himself
upright, in order to return to attempt a fresh
rescue, an outburst of flames illuminated him
completely.  The crowd, hitherto mute with admiration,
began clapping their hands and shouting
"Uncle Philibert!   Bravo, Philibert!"

At that instant, Eugénie, accompanied by
Margaret, arrived in front of the fire. She
beheld her brother re-enter the attic, leave it
with the little girl in his arms, successfully
accomplish the dangerous passage from the window
to the chimney, whence other devoted friends
had already removed the old woman to a place
of safety. The child placed out of danger,
Philibert continued his course along the ridge of the
roofs, and disappeared amidst clouds of smoke.
No one saw him come, and no one saw how or
where he reached the ground; Eugénie alone
guessed the truth.

Followed by Margaret and several of her
neighbours, she hastened away towards the
osier island. The boat remained moored in its
usual place, and was soon taken possession of.
The stream was crossed, and the anxious sister,
without light or guidance, rushed into the hut.
Night concealed beneath her veil the last interview
of the poor afflicted brother and the brave
devoted sister. When the men who accompanied
Eugénie had obtained torches, and entered the
hut, they found her covering with kisses her
brother's lifeless forehead. Poor Uncle
Philibert was dead.

One single flash of reason had traversed the
heroic coward's departing soul. Before breathing
his last sigh, he summoned strength to
whisper into Eugénie's ear, " Adieu, dear sister.
You will tell our father that I pardon him!"

Next Monday, the 15th of September, will be published,
price 5s. 6d., bound in cloth,
THE SEVENTH VOLUME
OF
ALL THE YEAR ROUND
Containing from Numbers 151 to 176.
The Six preceding Volumes are always to be had.
They include the following Novels:—
A TALE OF TWO CITIES, AND GREAT EXPECTATIONS.
BY CHARLES DICKENS.
THE WOMAN IN WHITE. BY WILKIE COLLINS.
A DAY'S RIDE, A LIFE'S ROMANCE. BY CHARLES
LEVER.
A STRANGE STORY. BY SIR EDWARD BULWER LYTTON.