the Vicar-General took Mademoiselle de Watteville
apart, to open the question of the marriage, by explaining to her that
it was vain to think any more of Albert, of whom they had had no news
for a year past, he was stopped at once by a sign from Rosalie. The
strange girl took Monsieur de Grancey by the arm, and led him to a seat
under a clump of rhododendrons, whence there was a view of the lake.

"Listen, dear Abbe," said she. "You whom I love as much as my father,
for you had an affection for my Albert, I must at last confess that I
committed crimes to become his wife, and he must be my husband.--Here;
read this."

She held out to him a number of the _Gazette_ which she had in her apron
pocket, pointing out the following paragraph under the date of Florence,
May 25th:--

"The wedding of Monsieur le Duc de Rhetore, eldest son of the Duc
de Chaulieu, the former Ambassador, to Madame la Duchesse
d'Argaiolo, _nee_ Princess Soderini, was solemnized with great
splendor. Numerous entertainments given in honor of the marriage
are making Florence gay. The Duchess' fortune is one of the finest
in Italy, for the late Duke left her everything."

"The woman he loved is married," said she. "I divided them."

"You? How?" asked the Abbe.

Rosalie was about to reply, when she was interrupted by a loud cry from
two of the gardeners, following on the sound of a body falling into the
water; she started, and ran off screaming, "Oh! father!"--The Baron had
disappeared.

In trying to reach a piece of granite on which he fancied he saw the
impression of a shell, a circumstance which would have contradicted some
system of geology, Monsieur de Watteville had gone down the slope, lost
his balance, and slipped into the lake, which, of course, was deepest
close under the roadway. The men had the greatest difficulty in enabling
the Baron to catch hold of a pole pushed down at the place where the
water was bubbling, but at last they pulled him out, covered with mud,
in which he had sunk; he was getting deeper and deeper in, by dint of
struggling. Monsieur de Watteville had dined heavily, digestion was in
progress, and was thus checked.

When he had been undressed, washed, and put to bed, he was in such
evident danger that two servants at once set out on horseback: one to
ride to Besancon, and the other to fetch the nearest doctor and surgeon.
When Madame de Watteville arrived, eight hours later, with the first
medical aid