d with a cold sweat.

Martine, fortunately, in the profound silence of the empty house, heard
the knock. She dressed herself, wrapped a shawl about her, and went
upstairs, carrying her candle. The darkness was still profound; dawn
was about to break. And when she perceived her master, whose eyes alone
seemed living, looking at her with locked jaws, speechless, his face
distorted by pain, she was awed and terrified, and she could only rush
toward the bed crying:

"My God! My God! what is the matter, monsieur? Answer me, monsieur, you
frighten me!"

For a full minute Pascal struggled in vain to recover his breath. Then,
the viselike pressure on his chest relaxing slowly, he murmured in a
faint voice:

"The five thousand francs in the desk are Clotilde's. Tell her that the
affair of the notary is settled, that she will recover from it enough to
live upon."

Then Martine, who had listened to him in open-mouthed wonder, confessed
the falsehood she had told him, ignorant of the good news that had been
brought by Ramond.

"Monsieur, you must forgive me; I told you an untruth. But it would be
wrong to deceive you longer. When I saw you alone and so unhappy, I took
some of my own money."

"My poor girl, you did that!"

"Oh, I had some hope that monsieur would return it to me one day."

By this time the attack had passed off, and he was able to turn his head
and look at her. He was amazed and moved. What was passing in the heart
of this avaricious old maid, who for thirty years had been saving up
her treasure painfully, who had never taken a sou from it, either for
herself or for any one else? He did not yet comprehend, but he wished to
show himself kind and grateful.

"You are a good woman, Martine. All that will be returned to you. I
truly think I am going to die--"

She did not allow him to finish, her whole being rose up in rebellious
protest.

"Die; you, monsieur! Die before me! I do not wish it. I will not let you
die!"

She threw herself on her knees beside the bed; she caught him wildly
in her arms, feeling him, to see if he suffered, holding him as if she
thought that death would not dare to take him from her.

"You must tell me what is the matter with you. I will take care of you.
I will save you. If it were necessary to give my life for you, I would
give it, monsieur. I will sit up day and night with you. I am strong
still; I will be stronger than the disease, you shall see. To die!
to die! oh, no,