id, with beaming
eyes, "I congratulate you, Mademoiselle. Your protege, Olivier Brusson,
is free." Mademoiselle Scuderi, with tears streaming down her cheeks,
unable to utter a word, would have cast herself at the King's feet; but
he prevented her, saying, "Va! Va! Mademoiselle, you ought to be my
Attorney-General and plead my causes, for nobody on earth can resist
your eloquence and powers of persuasion." He added, more gravely, "He
who is shielded by virtue may snap his fingers at every accusation, by
the Chambre Ardente, or any other tribunal on earth."

Mademoiselle Scuderi, now finding words, poured forth a most glowing
tribute of gratitude. But the King interrupted her, saying there were
warmer thanks awaiting her at home than any he could expect from her,
as at that moment doubtless Olivier was embracing his Madelon.
"Bontems," added His Majesty, "will hand you 1000 Louis, which you will
give the little one from me as a wedding portion. Let her marry her
Brusson, who does not deserve such a treasure, and then they must both
leave Paris. This is my will."

La Martiniere came to meet her mistress with eager steps, followed by
Baptiste, their faces beaming with joy, and both crying out, "He is
here! he is free! Oh, the dear young couple!" The happy pair fell at
Mademoiselle Scuderi's feet, and Madelon cried, "Ah! I knew that you,
and you only, would save my husband." "Mother," cried Olivier, "my
belief in you never wavered." They kissed her hands, and shed many
tears; and then they embraced again, and vowed that the super-earthly
bliss of the present time was worth all the nameless sufferings of the
days that were past.

In a few days the priest pronounced his blessing upon them. Even had it
not been the King's command that they were to leave Paris, Brusson
could not have remained there, where everything reminded him of the
dreadful epoch of Cardillac's atrocities, and where any accident might
have disclosed the evil secret, already known to several persons,
destroying the peace of his life for ever. Immediately after the
wedding he started with his young wife for Geneva, sped on his way by
Mademoiselle Scuderi's blessings. Handsomely provided with Madelon's
portion, his own skill at his calling, and every civic virtue, he there
led a happy life, without a care. The hopes, whose frustration had sent
the father to his grave, were fulfilled to the son.

A year after Brusson left Paris, a public proclamation, signe