silence; then she bowed her head and wakened Enguerrand
with her lips. "Pas de querelle, mes amis," he murmured, opening his
sweet blue eyes drowsily. "Ah, it was a dream! I thought Jules and Emile
[two young friends of his] were worrying each other; and you know, dear
Raoul, that I am the most officious of peacemakers. Time to rise, is it?
No peacemaking to-day. Kiss me again, mother, and say 'Bless thee.'"

"Bless thee, bless thee, my child," cried the mother, wrapping her arms
passionately round him, and in tones choked with sobs.

"Now leave me, maman," said Enguerrand, resorting to the infantine
ordinary name, which he had not used for years. "Raoul, stay and help
me to dress. I must be tres beau to-day. I shall join thee at breakfast,
maman. Early for such repast, but l'appetit vient en mangeant. Mind the
coffee is hot."

Enguerrand, always careful of each detail of dress, was especially so
that morning, and especially gay, humming the old air, "Partant pour la
Syrie." But his gaiety was checked when Raoul, taking from his breast a
holy talisman, which he habitually wore there, suspended it with loving
hands round his brother's neck. It was a small crystal set in Byzantine
filigree; imbedded in it was a small splinter of wood, said by pious
tradition to be a relic of the Divine Cross. It had been for centuries
in the family of the Contessa di Rimini, and was given by her to Raoul,
the only gift she had ever made him, as an emblem of the sinless
purity of the affection that united those two souls in the bonds of the
beautiful belief.

"She bade me transfer it to thee to-day, my brother," said Raoul,
simply; "and now without a pang I can gird on thee thy soldier's sword."

Enguerrand clasped his brother in his arms, and kissed him with
passionate fervour. "Oh, Raoul, how I love thee! how good thou hast ever
been to me! how many sins thou hast saved me from! how indulgent thou
hast been to those from which thou couldst not save! Think on that, my
brother, in case we do not meet again on earth."

"Hush, hush, Enguerrand! No gloomy forebodings now! Come, come hither,
my half of life, my sunny half of life!" and uttering these words,
he led Enguerrand towards the crucifix, and there, in deeper and more
solemn voice, said, "Let us pray." So the brothers knelt side by side,
and Raoul prayed aloud as only such souls can pray.

When they descended into the salon where breakfast was set out, they
found assembled sever