outer wall and fell at their feet. Morgan, who still
retained in relation to his comrades the position of leader, picked
it up, opened the letter which inclosed the stone, and read it. Then,
turning to his friends, he said: "Gentlemen, the appeal has been
rejected, as we might have expected, and the ceremony will take place in
all probability to-morrow."

Valensolle and Ribier, who were playing a species of quoits with
crown-pieces and louis, left off their game to hear the news. Having
heard it they returned to their game without remark.

Jayat, who was reading "La Nouvelle Heloise," resumed his book, saying:
"Then, I shall not have time to finish M. Jean-Jacques Rousseau's
masterpiece, and upon my word I don't regret it, for it is the most
utterly false and wearisome book I ever read in my life!"

Sainte-Hermine passed his hand over his forehead, murmuring: "Poor
Amelie!" Then observing Charlotte, who was at the window of the jailer's
room overlooking the courtyard, he went to her. "Tell Amelie that she
must keep the promise she made me, to-night."

The jailer's daughter closed the window, kissed her father, and told him
that in all probability he would see her there again that evening. Then
she returned to Noires-Fontaines, a road she had taken twice every day
for the last two months, once at noon on her way to the prison, once in
the evening on returning to the chateau.

Every night she found Amelie in the same place, sitting at the window
which, in happier days, had given admittance to her beloved Charles.
Since the day she had fainted in the courtroom she had shed no tears,
and, we may almost add, had uttered no word. Unlike the marble of
antiquity awakening into life, she might have been compared to a living
woman petrifying into stone. Every day she grew paler.

Charlotte watched her with astonishment. Common minds, always impressed
by noisy demonstrations, that is to say, by cries and tears, are unable
to understand a mute sorrow. Dumbness to them means indifference. She
was therefore astonished at the calmness with which Amelie received the
message she was charged to deliver. She did not see in the dimness of
the twilight that Amelie's face from being pale grew livid. She did not
feel the deadly clutch which, like an iron wrench, had seized her heart.
She did not know that as her mistress walked to the door an automatic
stiffness was in her limbs. Nevertheless she followed her anxiously. But
at the door