es a
semblance of the glow of love, who walked, strode, roamed, rode, as
artists produce enchanting creations--he was condemned by the perverse
play of incomprehensible circumstances to a foretaste of the grave and
deprived of what he held dearest and most precious. Frequent grew the
nights of sullenness when his eyes, brimming over with tears, were
dulled at the thought of disgrace; more frequent the days of
irrepressible longing, when every grain of sand that crumbled from the
moist walls was a reminder of the wondrous being and working of the
earth, the meadow, the wood. From the events which had overshadowed his
life he turned away his thoughts in disgust, and he scarcely heard the
keeper when he appeared one morning and exultingly informed him that
the mysterious unknown, who was destined to become the chief witness,
the lady with the green feathers, had finally been found; she had come
forward of her own accord, and she was the daughter of President
Seguret, Clarissa Mirabel.

Bastide Grammont gazed gloomily before him. But from that hour that
name hovered about his ears like the fluttering of the wings of
inevitable Fate.

* * * * * *

This is what took place: Madame Mirabel confessed that on the night of
the murder she had been in the Bancal house. This confession, however,
was made under a peculiar stress, and in less time than it took swift
Rumor to make it public, she retracted everything. But the word had
fallen and bred deed upon deed.

Clarissa Mirabel was the only child of President Seguret. She was
brought up in the country, in the old Chateau Perrie, which her father
had bought at the outbreak of the Revolution. Owing to the political
upheavals, and the uncertain condition of things, she did not enjoy the
benefit of any regular instruction in her childhood. The profound
isolation in which she grew up favored her inclination to romanticism.
She idolized her parents; in the agitated period of anarchy, the girl,
scarcely fourteen years old, exhibited at her father's side such a
spirit of self-sacrifice and such devotion that she aroused the
attention of Colonel Mirabel, who, five years later, came and sued for
her hand. She did not love him,--she had shortly before entered into a
singularly romantic relationship with a shepherd,--yet she married him,
because her father bade her. The union was not happy; after three
months she separated from her husband; the Colonel went with the army
to Spain. At t