g himself along, and shivered in the warm sun as
if he were bloodless.

Leaning on Louis's arm, he slowly walked down to look at the forge, and,
seating himself before a furnace at full blast, he declared that he felt
very much better, that this intense heat revived him.

His pains were all gone, and he could breathe without difficulty.

His spirits rose, and he turned to the workmen gathered around, and said
cheerfully:

"I was not blessed with a good constitution for nothing, my friends, and
I shall soon be well again."

When the neighbors called to see him, and insisted that this illness
was entirely owing to change of climate, Gaston replied that he supposed
they were right, and that he would return to Rio as soon as he was well
enough to travel.

What hope this answer roused in Louis's breast!

"Yes," he eagerly said, "I will go with you; a trip to Brazil would be
charming! Let us start at once."

But the next day Gaston had changed his mind.

He told Louis that he felt almost well, and was determined not to leave
France. He proposed going to Paris to consult the best physicians; and
then he would see Valentine.

That night he grew worse.

As his illness increased, he became more surprised and troubled at not
hearing from Beaucaire.

He wrote again in the most pressing terms, and sent the letter by a
courier who was to wait for the answer.

This letter was never received by Lafourcade.

At midnight, Gaston's sufferings returned with renewed violence, and for
the first time Dr. C---- was uneasy.

A fatal termination seemed inevitable. Gaston's pain left him in a
measure, but he was growing weaker every moment. His mind wandered,
and his feet were as cold as ice. On the fourteenth day of his illness,
after lying in a stupor for several hours, he revived sufficiently
to ask for a priest, saying that he would follow the example of his
ancestors, and die like a Christian.

The priest left him after half an hour's interview, and all the workmen
were summoned to receive the farewell greeting of their master.

Gaston spoke a few kind words to them all, saying that he had provided
for them in his will.

After they had gone, he made Louis promise to carry on the iron-works,
embraced him for the last time, and sank back on his pillow in a dying
state.

As the bell tolled for noon he quietly breathed his last, murmuring,
softly, "In three years, Valentine; wait for me."

Now Louis was in reality Marq