in a loud tone, and
to beg, almost to command, him to listen to her. Maurice also spoke to
him, but without making any impression on his mind. There was no meaning
in his gaze when it rested on the faces of either; but his eyes, the
instant they fell upon Madeleine's countenance, grew less glassy, more
_living_, and through them the darkened soul looked dimly out.

Whatever might have been the internal sufferings of the countess, they
did not conquer her stoicism. She resumed her seat, and her lips were
again sealed; their close compression and ashy hue alone told that the
torture of the mental rack upon which she was stretched had been
augmented.

As soon as Madeleine felt the count's hand relaxing its firm grasp, she
withdrew hers, though he made a faint attempt to detain her. As she
retired from the bed, his eyes followed her, and his lips moved again.

"You are not going, Madeleine?" questioned Maurice. "My father evidently
knows you,--wants you near him; you are the only one he recognizes; do
not leave us!"

Was that low, stifled sound which reached their ears, in spite of the
firmly-compressed lips of the countess, an inward sob or groan?

As Madeleine sat down, Dr. Bayard entered. Maurice related what had
passed, and the doctor requested Madeleine to address the patient. That
he made an effort to reply was unmistakable. Dr. Bayard then spoke to
the count, but without attracting his attention. He desired Maurice to
accost him, but no better result ensued. He signified to the countess
that she should do the same; but the agony of beholding her son
recognize, cling to one toward whom she entertained the bitterest
enmity, while the voice of his mother--his mother who loved him with all
the strength of her proud nature--was unheeded, became intolerable. She
rose up, not quickly, but with all her wonted stateliness, and with a
firm and measured pace walked out of the room. She had no definite
purpose,--she did not know where she was going, or where she wished to
go,--but she could not abide the sight forced upon her eyes in that
chamber.

"Maurice, attend your grandmother," whispered Madeleine.

Maurice had not thought of stirring, but he rose and opened the door of
the adjoining room.

"Leave me! I would be alone!" said the countess, as he entered.

He returned to his father's side.

Dr. Bayard was giving his orders to Madeleine. A crisis had just passed,
he said. Count Tristan was better; there was reason