but the two swords were instantly crossed,
and sparks flew to the right and left. Four
or five passes sufficed to disarm Philippe.

"Resume your sword," said the cavalier
coldly. "Our combat is only to be ended
by death."

Philippe took his sword again, and the duel
commenced with fury on both sides. In a
few seconds the youth fell to the ground,
pierced through his chest, and yielded his
spirit without uttering a word. Quick as lightning,
the adversary mounted his horse, and
disappeared through the gate of the town by
which he had entered, taking the road to the
northward.

At the clashing of the arms, Jeanne and
her governess in terror had ventured to look
out from the open window. The first object
which met their view was the body of
Philippe, outstretched in that part of the
street where the moonbeams were shining
brightest. A cry of despair escaped from
Jeanne's bosom. At that cry, the neighbours
arose in alarm. What was their surprise
when they recognized the betrothed husband
of Van Robec's daughter? Their first care
was to carry him to the burgomaster's house.
ln spite of the exclamations and remonstrances
of the governess, who returned to
her mistress utterly overcome, the neighbours
laid the body of Philippe on Van Robec's
bed, and one of them went to fetch a
surgeon, to be authoritatively assured that life
was really extinct. Jeanne, who from the
first story of the house beheld her betrothed
lying on the ground, and who heard all the
bustle within doors, insisted on entering the
room in which Philippe had been placed. In
vain the governess tried to oppose her wish.
In a few minutes the girl was in the midst
of the sorrowing neighbours; who did their
utmost to tear her away from so sad a sight.
But Jeanne struggled against them, embraced
the corpse of her betrothed closely in her
arms, lavishing upon it the most affectionate
endearments. When the doctor came at last,
he had to testify to the double fact, that
Philippe was dead, and that Jeanne was
seized with madness.

On leaving Tournay, the cavalier went
across the country as far as the church of
the first village; descended into a little
valley, traversed a narrow brook on a
bridge of planks, and then, penetrating the
woods in an easterly course, he succeeded
in arriving at a hamlet where he stopped
before the gate of a château. This château
belonged to a powerful family, who had
afforded an asylum to a woman of from
five-and-thirty to forty years of age, of noble
descent, driven by misfortune from her native
province more than two years previously, to
live in retirement here. The only journeys
she had made since her residence in the
hamlet were restricted to two or three visits
to Tournay; where she went, it was whispered,
to see some person to whom she was
tenderly attached.

The cavalier passed the night as tranquilly
as if he had returned from accomplishing
some perfectly simple and natural affair; and,
the next morning as soon as he awoke, his
first care was to see the Dame de Beaufroid.
Her countenance when she received him,
was impressed with a deep melancholy;
but that very melancholy, adding to the
paleness which overspread her features,
endowed her with an inexpressible captivating
interest.

"Ah! it is you, Mahuot?" said the lady,
in a voice of emotion. "I have passed a sleepless
night, agitated by a thousand painful
presentiments."

"Presentiments do not always deceive,"
he replied abruptly.

"What do you mean?—Good God! what
is the meaning of that change in your
countenance—of the harshness of your looks!"

"It is useless that I should conceal the fact.
I have seen that Philippe, of whom we were
talking yesterday. I could rest no longer in
the cruel uncertainty in which I was placed
by the letters which I discovered in your
oratory. I did not choose; after having left
the army of the Duke of Burgundy in order
to come and ask you, for the last time, whether
you were willing to espouse me and thus
conclude a tedious courtship;—I did not
choose, I say, to remain in any further doubt
respecting your conduct during my absence.
This very night I have been to Tournay."

"And you have met with Philippe?"

''Yes! My measures were taken, and my
information proved exact. Consequently, I
had not long to wait. I remembered that
particular letter, in which he addresses you
in the tenderest terms; in which he entreats
you to crown his happiness; and which he
concludes, by daring to ask you to receive his
kisses."

"Well!"

"Well! he has not denied it! On the
contrary, he confessed—"

"And then?"

"Then, my indignation overcame all
bounds. I reproached him with his own.
duplicity, and with your treachery. I
compelled him to take sword in hand, the very
moment after he had betrayed you, in turn,
by embracing her whom he was soon to
marry."

"Make an end of your tale."

"I killed him!" harshly replied the cavalier.

The lady appeared for a moment to be
utterly overwhelmed. But, making a strong
effort, she stood proud and menacing before
the assassin, and said, "Do you know whom
it is that you have stricken?"

The cavalier remained silent.

"But to whom do I address myself?" she
added vehemently. " I entreat Heaven to
pardon me for having ever known you. I