ed to inspire Morgan with a peace of mind
which she herself did not share. Since the day that Charlotte had
brought back the news of Roland's presence at Bourg, she had had a
presentiment, like that of Morgan himself, that they were approaching
some terrible crisis. She knew all that had happened at the Chartreuse
of Seillon. She foresaw the struggle between her brother and her
lover, and, with her mind at rest about her brother, thanks to Morgan's
protection, she, knowing Roland's character, trembled for her lover's
life.

Moreover, she had heard of the stoppage of the Chambery mail-coach and
the death of the colonel of Chasseurs. She also knew that her brother
had escaped, but that he had disappeared since that time. She had
received no letter from him herself. This disappearance and silence, to
her who knew her brother so well, was even worse than open and declared
war.

As for Morgan, she had not seen him since the scene we have narrated,
when she promised to send him arms wherever he might be, in case he were
condemned to death. Amelie therefore awaited this interview, for which
Morgan had asked, with as much impatience as he who had asked it. As
soon as she thought Michel and his son were in bed, she lighted the four
windows with the candles which were to summon Morgan to her.

Then, following her lover's injunctions, she wrapped herself in a
cashmere shawl, which Roland had brought her from the battlefield of the
Pyramids, and which he had unwound from the head of a chieftain whom he
had killed. Over this she flung a fur mantle, left Charlotte behind to
keep her informed in case of eventualities, which she trusted would not
be forthcoming, opened the park gate, and hastened toward the river.

During the day she had gone to the Reissouse and back several times to
trace a line of footsteps, among which the nocturnal ones would not be
noticed. She now descended, if not tranquilly at least boldly, the slope
leading to the river. Once there, she looked about her for the boat
beneath the willows. A man was waiting in it--Morgan. With two strokes
of the oar he reached a spot where Amelie could come to him. The young
girl sprang down and he caught her in his arms.

The first thing the young girl noticed was the joyous radiance which
illuminated, if we may say so, the face of her lover.

"Oh!" she cried, "you have something nice to tell me." "What makes you
think so, dearest?" asked Morgan with his tenderest smile.