. de Cardoville hoped to carry
into execution, with the aid of M. Francois Hardy, of Prince Djalma,
of Marshal Simon and his daughters, and of myself--when I think of the
dazzling focus of living forces, which such an association would have
been, and of the immense influence it might have had on the happiness of
the whole human race--my indignation and horror, as an honest man and
a Christian, are excited against that abominable Company, whose black
plots nipped in their bud all those great hopes, which promised so much
for futurity. What remains now of all these splendid projects? Seven
tombs. For my grave also is dug in that mausoleum, which Samuel has
erected on the site of the house in the Rue Neuve-Saint-Francois, and of
which he remains the keeper--faithful to the end!

"I had written thus far, my friend, when I received your letter. So,
after having forbidden you to see me, your bishop now orders that you
shall cease to correspond with me. Your touching, painful regrets
have deeply moved me, my friend. Often have we talked together of
ecclesiastical discipline, and of the absolute power of the bishops
over, us, the poor working clergy, left to their mercy without remedy.
It is painful, but it is the law of the church, my friend, and you have
sworn to observe it. Submit as I have submitted. Every engagement is
binding upon the man of honor! My poor, dear Joseph! would that you had
the compensations which remained to me, after the rupture of ties that I
so much value. But I know too well what you must feel--I cannot go on
I find it impossible to continue this letter, I might be bitter against
those whose orders we are bound to respect. Since it must be so, this
letter shall be my last. Farewell, my friend! farewell forever. My heart
is almost broken.

"GABRIEL DE RENNEPONT."

CHAPTER II. THE REDEMPTION.

Day was about to dawn. A rosy light, almost imperceptible, began to
glimmer in the east; but the stars still shone, sparkling with radiance,
upon the azure of the zenith. The birds awoke beneath the fresh foliage
of the great woods; and, with isolated warblings, sang the prelude of
their morning-concert. A light mist rose from the high grass, bathed in
nocturnal dew, while the calm and limpid waters of a vast lake reflected
the whitening dawn in their deep, blue mirror. Everything promised one
of those warm and joyous days, that belong to the opening of summer.

Half-way up the slope of a hill, facing th