I wished to see you, Alamontade," said he, "as you have been
distinguished by so much praise on the university list of Montpellier.
Cultivate your talents, and you may become a useful man. You shall
have my patronage for the future. Let not my encouragement make you
proud, but more industrious, and I shall not fail to learn how you
proceed. Do all in your power to retain the friendship of M.
Bertollon, your patron, and tell him that I sent for you."

This was all the mareschale said. He evinced satisfaction with me
during this short interview. I commended myself to his favour and
hastened to comfort my family, who were most anxious about me.

Their joy at my return was great, and soon all our neighbours, indeed
the whole town had heard the great honour I had received from the
mareschale. "Did I not say before that it is God who governs the
hearts of the powerful?" exclaimed my uncle; "The sun rises out of
darkness, and the holy cross rears itself to heaven over the bruised
serpent and painful thorns."

On arriving at Montpellier, I found M. Bertollon had gone to his wife
in the country. With melancholy feelings I stood in my garret before
the withered wreath, and sighed forth the name of Clementine, while I
kissed the faded leaves which had once bloomed in her delicate hand. I
felt half ashamed of the tears with which disappointed hope suffused my
eyes, and yet I felt happy.

The wreath and the small part of the magnificent house, De Sonnes, were
to become again, during winter, the mute witnesses of my love, joys,
and hopes. Spring and its blossoms (I said as I looked towards the
palace) will bring her, perhaps, to Montpellier.

At this moment I saw, at the opposite window, a female form attired in
deep mourning, and with her back turned towards me. My pulse ceased to
beat, my breath stopped, and my eyes became dim. "It can only be
Clementine," said a voice within me; but I had sunk down senseless on
the window, having neither the courage nor the power to look up and
convince myself.

When I had recovered, I raised myself, and cast a trembling look
towards her. Her face was turned towards me, covered with a black
veil, with which the breezes sported; it was raised--I saw Clementine,
and that at a moment when I had engaged her attention. I cast down my
eyes, and felt a burning glow through my veins. When I again raised
them, she was gone from the window, but not from my mind. "It is she,"
said a voi