me to themselves. As soon
as they saw him, they threw themselves at his feet, and seemed to look up
to him and thank him, as one would pray. Then they cast their eyes around
them, as if in search of some other person, and, having exchanged a few
words, they fell sobbing into each other's arms."

"What a dreadful thing it is! How many poor creatures must have
perished!"

"When we quitted the rocks, the sea had already cast ashore seven dead
bodies, besides fragments of the wrecks, and packages. I spoke to some of
the coast-guard, and they will remain all day on the look-out; and if, as
I hope, any more should escape with life, they are to be brought here.
But surely that is the sound of voices!--yes, it is our shipwrecked
guests!"

The bailiff and his wife ran to the door of the room--that door, which
opened on the long gallery--whilst Rodin, biting convulsively his flat
nails, awaited with angry impatience the arrival of the strangers. A
touching picture soon presented itself to his view.

From the end of the dark some gallery, only lighted on one side by
several windows, three persons, conducted by a peasant, advanced slowly.
This group consisted of the two maidens, and the intrepid young man to
whom they owed their lives. Rose and Blanche were on either side of their
deliverer, who, walking with great difficulty, supported himself lightly
on their arms.

Though he was full twenty-five years of age, the juvenile countenance of
this man made him appear younger. His long, fair hair, parted on the
forehead, streamed wet and smooth over the collar of a large brown cloak,
with which he had been covered. It would be difficult to describe the
adorable expression of goodness in his pale, mild face, as pure as the
most ideal creations of Raphael's pencil--for that divine artist alone
could have caught the melancholy grace of those exquisite features, the
serenity of that celestial look, from eyes limpid and blue as those of an
archangel, or of a martyr ascended to the skies.

Yes, of a martyr! for a blood-red halo already encircled that beauteous
head. Piteous sight to see! just above his light eyebrows, and rendered
still more visible by the effect of the cold, a narrow cicatrix, from a
wound inflicted many months before, appeared to encompass his fair
forehead with a purple band; and (still more sad!) his hands had been
cruelly pierced by a crucifixion--his feet had suffered the same
injury--and, if he now walked with