f fifty thousand
crowns, deposited in a friend's hands.

"'I have no longer a son; but I have numerous relations, exiled in
various parts of Europe. This sum of fifty thousand crowns, divided
between them, would profit each of them very little. I have disposed of
it differently.

"'In this I have followed the wise counsels of a man, whom I venerate
as the image of God on earth, for his intelligence, wisdom, and goodness
are almost divine.

"'Twice in the course of my life have I seen this man, under very fatal
circumstances--twice have I owed him safety, once of the soul, once of
the body.

"'Alas! he might perhaps have saved my poor child, but he came too
late--too late.

"'Before he left me, he wished to divert me from the intention of
dying--for he knew all. But his voice was powerless. My grief, my
regret, my discouragement, were too much for him.

"'It is strange! when he was convinced of my resolution to finish my
days by violence, some words of terrible bitterness escaped him, making
me believe that he envied me--my fate--my death!

"'Is he perhaps condemned to live?

"'Yes; he has, no doubt, condemned himself to be useful to humanity,
and yet life is heavy on him, for I heard him repeat one day, with an
expression of despair and weariness that I have never forgotten: "Life!
life! who will deliver me from it?"

"'Is life then so very burdensome to him?

"'He is gone. His last words have made me look for my departure with
serenity. Thanks to him, my death shall not be without fruit.

"'Thanks to him, these lines, written at this moment by a man who, in a
few hours, will have ceased to live, may perhaps be the parents of great
things a century and a half hence--yes! great and noble things, if my
last will is piously followed by my descendants, for it is to them that
I here address myself.

"'That they may understand and appreciate this last will--which I
commend to the care of the unborn, who dwell in the future whither I am
hastening--they must know the persecutors of my family and avenge their
ancestor, but by a noble vengeance.

"'My grandfather was a Catholic. Induced by perfidious counsels rather
than religious zeal, he attached himself, though a layman, to a Society
whose power has always been terrible and mysterious--the Society of
Jesus--'"

At these words of the testament, Father d'Aigrigny, Rodin, and Gabriel
looked involuntarily at each other: The notary, who had not perceived
this ac