e said that I behaved to them as if they had,"
replied he; "and before I changed my religion, I was often smitten with
remorse for my selfish and unfeeling conduct towards Marie; but all that
is passed, I am now a Turk;" and the renegade passed his hand over his
brow; for some long, smothered feelings of virtue had been conjured up
by remorse, as he was reminded of the career of guilt which he had run
through, and which he had climaxed by the denial of his Redeemer. After
a short pause he continued--

------------------------------------------------------------------------

For a week I remained in the society of the marquis and his daughter,
daily ingratiating myself more and more with both. I had not declared
my passion to his daughter, for there was something that irresistibly
prevented me; yet I knew that I was not viewed with indifference. Our
party was then increased by the appearance of the Bishop of Toulouse,
the brother of the marquis, who came to congratulate him and his niece
upon their fortunate escape. I was presented as the gentleman who had
so materially assisted. The bishop stared at me with surprise.

"It is strange," observed he, "that a body has been found in a ditch,
near to where the robbery occurred, and has been recognised to be that
of the very young officer to whom you now introduce me. How can this
be?"

The marquis and his daughter appeared astonished at the intelligence
(and in truth so was I), but it was only for a second. "How say you,
sir," exclaimed I, with trepidation, "a body recognised as the son of
the Comte de Rouille? My poor, poor brother! my dear Victor have you
then perished? what injustice have I done you!"

Throwing myself on the fauteuil, I covered my face with my handkerchief,
as if overpowered with grief; but, in reality, I was reflecting what I
should say next.

"Your brother!" exclaimed the marquis in surprise.

"Yes, marquis, my brother. I will now state the circumstances which
induced me to conceal from you that he was in my company at the time of
the attack. When I galloped to your assistance, I was followed by my
brother, who was riding with me to Marseilles, and of whom you recollect
I have spoken; but after the first discharge of fire-arms I found that
he was not at my side, and I imagined that he had deserted me from fear.
I could not bear that such a disgrace upon the family should be known,
and I therefore made no mention of him when I came back.