nd, and our harp shall sound in the evening, to record the
unenvied felicity of two loving souls in the shade of our own grove.
The poor shall eat at our table, and those consoled in their griefs
shall be our companions. Surely, Clementine, we shall never yearn for
the cold splendour of this palace. And some day, you, Clementine--the
mere thought vibrates rapture through me--some day, Clementine, you
will be a mother. Mother! oh, Clementine!"--Her kisses interrupted my
words.

At this moment my servant entered pale as death and breathless.

"What is the matter with you?" I asked.

"Sir," he faltered, "the Calvinists have met for their interdicted
worship in the mill of M. Etienne near the Carmelite gate."

I was much alarmed. Lo, then, it was betrayed. "And what else," I
cried.

"The mill is surrounded by dragoons, and all within are prisoners.
Only think, the Mareschale de Montreval is there himself. The preacher
and a few others of the secured heretics endeavoured to escape through
the window, but the mareschale gave the signal, and the dragoons fired."

"Fired?" I cried. "Was any one killed?"

"Four of them lie dead on the spot," was the servant's reply.

Without asking any further questions, I took my hat and stick.
Clementine wept and trembled; she would not let me leave her, turned
pale, and clung speechless and in great anguish round my neck.

Madame de Sonnes came in. I told her of this frightful occurrence, and
that I was resolved to hasten there in order to move the mareschale to
humanity. She praised my resolution, entreating me to fly thither
without delay, and spoke consoling words to Clementine.

As I departed, I looked back, and saw Clementine pale and trembling in
her mother's arms. I returned, kissed her pale lips, and hastened away.

When I reached the gate, I had to force my way through a throng of
people who stood crowded together, gaping with mingled curiosity,
terror, joy, and expectation.

With cold shuddering I beheld above the crowd the glittering arms of
the dragoons, who surrounded, three deep, my beloved uncle's mill.
High above all I saw the mareschale on horseback, surrounded by
noblemen; he seemed grave and thoughtful.

"My lord!" I exclaimed, when I reached him.

He turned round on hearing me, looked at me, and pointing with his
stick to the mill, said, without changing a feature, "The wretches!
Now they are caught."

"What do you intend doing, my lord?" I aske