ould you be thus sacrificed? Mary, Mary, you will
live, my child, to bless your desolate and wretched mother. Oh, my God,
my God, why hast thou thus forsaken me? I have trusted in thee, and wilt
thou thus fail me? To whom can I appeal--what friend have I near me?"

"Mother, do not speak thus," exclaimed Mary, roused from the lethargy
of exhaustion by her mother's despairing words, and she flung herself on
her knees beside her, and threw her arms around her. "Mother, my own
mother, the God of the widow and the fatherless is still our friend; He
hath not forsaken us, though for a time His countenance is darkened
towards us. Oh, he will have mercy; He will raise us up a friend--I
feel, I know He will. He will relieve us. Let us but trust in Him,
mother; let us not fail now. Oh, let us pray to Him, and He will
answer."

The eyes of the good and gentle girl were lit up with sudden radiance.
Her pallid cheek was faintly flushed; her whole countenance and tone
expressed the enthusiasm, the holiness which had characterised her whole
life. Mrs. Greville clasped her faded form convulsively to her aching
bosom, and, drooping her head, wept long and freely.

"Father, I have sinned," she murmured; "oh, have mercy."

An hour passed, and neither Mary nor her mother moved from that posture
of affliction, yet of prayer. They heard not the sound of many voices
below, nor a rapid footstep on the stairs. The opening of the door
aroused them, but Mary looked not up; she clung closer to her mother,
for she feared to gaze again on Dupont. A wild exclamation of joy, of
thanksgiving, bursting from Mrs. Greville's lips startled her; for a
moment she trembled, yet she could not be mistaken, that tone was joy.
Slowly she looked on the intruder. Wildly she sprung up--she clasped her
hands together.

"My God, I thank thee, we are saved!" broke from her parched lips, and
she sunk senseless at Mr. Hamilton's feet.

Emissaries of wickedness were not wanting to convey the intelligence
very quickly to Dupont's ear, that Mrs. and Miss Greville had departed
from the Rue Royale, under the protection of an English gentleman, who
had stationed two of his servants at their house to protect Mr.
Greville's body from insult, and give him information of all that took
place during his absence. Furiously enraged, Dupont hastened to know the
truth of these reports, and a scene of fierce altercation took place
between him and Mr. Hamilton. The calm, steady firmn