honours, no riches, which can replace a mother's love.
You wish to give me in exchange, that other woman's child. Never! What!
you would have that woman embrace my boy! It is impossible. Take away
this strange child from me; he fills me with horror; I want my own! Ah,
do not insist, do not threaten me with anger, do not leave me. I should
give in, and then, I should die. Guy, forget this fatal project, the
thought of it alone is a crime. Cannot my prayers, my tears, can nothing
move you? Ah, well, God will punish us. All will be discovered. The day
will come when these children will demand a fearful reckoning. Guy, I
foresee the future; I see my son coming towards me, justly angered.
What does he say, great heaven! Oh, those letters, those letters, sweet
memories of our love! My son, he threatens me! He strikes me! Ah, help!
A son strike his mother. Tell no one of it, though. O my God, what
torture! Yet he knows well that I am his mother. He pretends not to
believe me. Lord, this is too much! Guy! pardon! oh, my only friend! I
have neither the power to resist, nor the courage to obey you."

At this moment the door opening on to the landing opened, and Noel
appeared, pale as usual, but calm and composed. The dying woman saw him,
and the sight affected her like an electric shock. A terrible shudder
shook her frame; her eyes grew inordinately large, her hair seemed to
stand on end. She raised herself on her pillows, stretched out her
arm in the direction where Noel stood, and in a loud voice exclaimed,
"Assassin!"

She fell back convulsively on the bed. Some one hastened forward: she
was dead.

A deep silence prevailed.

Such is the majesty of death, and the terror which accompanies it, that,
in its presence, even the strongest and most sceptical bow their heads.

For a time, passions and interests are forgotten. Involuntarily we
are drawn together, when some mutual friend breathes his last in our
presence.

All the bystanders were deeply moved by this painful scene, this last
confession, wrested so to say from the delirium.

And the last word uttered by Madame Gerdy, "assassin," surprised no one.

All, excepting the nun, knew of the awful accusation which had been made
against Albert.

To him they applied the unfortunate mother's malediction.

Noel seemed quite broken hearted. Kneeling by the bedside of her who had
been as a mother to him, he took one of her hands, and pressed it close
to his lips.

"Dead!"