h persons in power which could aid the
project. You see how short the time is; all depends upon minutes.
The Secretary of State can suspend the execution, and in the delay a
commutation of the sentence may be obtained."

"Oh, give it to me!" cried she, eagerly. And, snatching the paper from
his hands, she hurried into the chamber.

Frank Dalton was awake, but in all the languor of great debility. He
scarcely listened to his sister, till he heard her pronounce the name of
the Abbe D'Esmonde.

"Is he here, Kate?--is he here?" cried he, eagerly.

"Yes, and most anxious to see and speak with you."

"Then let him come in, Kate. Nay, nay, it will not agitate me."

Kate noiselessly retired, and, beckoning the Abbe to come forward, she
left the room, and closed the door.

D'Esmonde approached the sick-bed with a cautious, almost timid air, and
seated himself on a chair, without speaking.

"So, then, we are cousins, I find," said Frank, stretching out his
wasted hand towards him. "They tell me you are a Godfrey, Abbe?"

D'Esmonde pressed his hand in token of assent, but did not utter a word.

"I have no wish--I do not know if I have the right----to stand between
you and your father's inheritance. If I am destined to arise from this
sick-bed, the world is open to me, and I am not afraid to encounter it.
Let us be friends, then, D'Esmonde, in all candor and frankness."

"Willingly,--most willingly. There need be but one rivalry between us,"
said D*Esmonde, with a voice of deep feeling,--"in the struggle who
shall best serve the other. Had we known of this before; had I suspected
how our efforts might have been combined and united; had I but imagined
you as my ally, and not my--But these are too exciting themes to talk
upon. You are not equal to them."

"Not so; it is in such moments that I feel a touch of health and vigor
once again. Go on, I beseech you."

"I will speak of that which more immediately concerns us," said the
Abbe. "This wretched man stands for execution on Saturday. Let us try
to save him. His guilt must have already had its expiation in years
of remorse and suffering. Here is a petition I have drawn up to the
Secretary of State. It has been signed by several of the jury who
tried the cause. We want your name also to it Such a commutation as may
sentence him to exile is all that we pray for."

"Give me the pen; I 'll sign it at once."

"There,--in that space," said the' Abbe, pointing with his fing