congratulating friends, and the approving smiles
of his mistress, felt gratified and happy; his
speech had, for the time being, not only
convinced others, but himself; warmed with his
own eloquence, he believed what he said. But
when the glow was over, and he found himself
alone, he did not feel so comfortable. A latent
doubt of Rollet's guilt now burnt strongly in
his mind, and he felt that the blood of the
innocent would be on his head. It is true
there was yet time to save the life of the
prisoner, but to admit Jacques innocent, was
to take the glory out of his own speech, and
turn the sting of his argument against
himself. Besides, if he produced the witness who
had secretly given him the information, he
should be self-condemned, for he could not
conceal that he had been aware of the
circumstance before the trial.

Matters having gone so far, therefore, it was
necessary that Jacques Rollet should die; so
the affair took its course; and early one
morning the guillotine was erected in the
court yard of the jail, three criminals ascended
the scaffold, and three heads fell into the
basket, which were presently afterwards, with
the trunks that had been attached to them,
buried in a corner of the cemetery.

Antoine de Chaulieu was now fairly started
in his career, and his success was as rapid
as the first step towards it had been tardy.
He took a pretty apartment in the Hôtel
Marbœuf, Rue Grange-Batelière, and in a
short time was looked upon as one of the
most rising young advocates in Paris. His
success in one line brought him success in
another; he was soon a favourite in society,
and an object of interest to speculating
mothers; but his affections still adhered to
his old love Natalie de Bellefonds, whose
family now gave their assent to the match–––
at least, prospectively–––a circumstance which
furnished such an additional incentive to his
exertions, that in about two years from the
date of his first brilliant speech, he was in
a sufficiently flourishing condition to offer the
young lady a suitable home. In anticipation
of the happy event, he engaged and
furnished a suite of apartments in the Rue du
Helder; and as it was necessary that the
bride should come to Paris to provide her
trousseau, it was agreed that the wedding
should take place there, instead of at Belle-
fonds, as had been first projected; an arrange-
ment the more desirable, that a press of
business rendered Mons. de Chaulieu's absence
from Paris inconvenient.

Brides and bridegrooms in France, except
of the very high classes, are not much in the
habit of making those honeymoon excursions
so universal in this country. A day spent in
visiting Versailles, or St. Cloud, or even the
public places of the city, is generally all that
precedes the settling down into the habits of
daily life. In the present instance St. Denis
was selected, from the circumstance of
Natalie's having a younger sister at school
there; and also because she had a particular
desire to see the Abbey.

The wedding was to take place on a Thursday;
and on the Wednesday evening, having
spent some hours most agreeably with
Natalie, Antoine de Chaulieu returned to spend
his last night in his bachelor apartments.
His wardrobe and other small possessions,
had already been packed up and sent to his
future home; and there was nothing left in
his room now, but his new wedding suit,
which he inspected with considerable
satisfaction before he undressed and lay down to
sleep. Sleep, however, was somewhat slow
to visit him; and the clock had struck one,
before he closed his eyes. When he opened
them again, it was broad daylight; and his
first- thought was, had he overslept himself?
He sat up in bed to look at the clock which
was exactly opposite, and as he did so, in the
large mirror over the fireplace, he perceived
a figure standing behind him. As the dilated
eyes met his own, he saw it was the face of
Jacques Rollet. Overcome with horror he
sunk back on his pillow, and it was some
minutes before he ventured to look again
in that direction; when he did so, the figure
had disappeared.

The sudden revulsion of feeling such a
vision was calculated to occasion in a man
elate with joy, may be conceived! For some
time after the death of his former foe, he had
been visited by not unfrequent twinges of
conscience; but of late, borne along by
success, and the hurry of Parisian fife, these
unpleasant remembrancers had grown rarer,
till at length they had faded away altogether.
Nothing had been further from his thoughts
than Jacques Rollet, when he closed his eyes
on the preceding night, nor when he opened
them to that sun which was to shine on
what he expected to be the happiest day
of his life! Where were the high-strung
nerves now! The elastic frame! The bounding
heart!

Heavily and slowly he arose from his bed,
for it was time to do so; and with a trembling
hand and quivering knees, he went
through the processes of the toilet, gashing
his cheek with the razor, and spilling the
water over his well polished boots. When
he was dressed, scarcely venturing to cast a
glance in the mirror as he passed it, he
quitted the room and descended the stairs,
taking the key of the door with him for the
purpose of leaving it with the porter; the
man, however, being absent, he laid it on the
table in his lodge, and with a relaxed and
languid step proceeded on his way to the
church, where presently arrived the fair
Natalie and her friends. How difficult it was
now to look happy, with that pallid face and
extinguished eye!

"How pale you are! Has anything
happened '! You are surely ill?" were the
exclamations that met him on all sides. He tried
to cany it off as well as he could, but felt