gently, "that one does not look forward _to_, but
_beyond_ it." She stopped and hesitated, still watching his face, and
then spoke hurriedly and diffidently:--

"Monsieur, it seems impertinent to make such suggestions to you, who
have doubtless a full fund of consolation; but I remember, when a
child, going to hear the preaching of a monk who was famous for his
eloquence. He said that his text was from the Scriptures--it has been
in my mind all to-day--'_There the wicked cease from troubling, and
there the weary be at rest._' The man is becoming impatient. Adieu!
Monsieur. A thousand thanks and a thousand blessings."

She offered her cheek, on which there was not a ray of increased
colour, and Monsieur the Viscount stooped and kissed it, with a thick
mist gathering in his eyes, through which he could not see her face.

"Adieu! Valerie!"

"Adieu! Louis!"

So they met, and so they parted; and as Monsieur the Viscount went
back to his prison, he flattered himself that the last link was broken
for him in the chain of earthly interests.

When he reached the cell he was tired, and lay down, and in a few
seconds a soft scrambling over the floor announced the return of
Monsieur Crapaud from his hiding-place. With one wrinkled leg after
another he clambered on to the stone, and Monsieur the Viscount
started when he saw him.

"Friend Crapaud! I had actually forgotten thee. I fancied I had said
adieu for the last time;" and he gave a choked sigh, which Monsieur
Crapaud could not be expected to understand. In about five minutes he
sprang up suddenly. "Monsieur Crapaud, I have not long to live, and no
time must be lost in making my will." Monsieur Crapaud was too wise to
express any astonishment; and his master began to hunt for a
tidy-looking stone (paper and cambric were both at an end). They were
all rough and dirty; but necessity had made the Viscount inventive,
and he took a couple and rubbed them together till he had polished
both. Then he pulled out the little pencil, and for the next half hour
composed and wrote busily. When it was done he lay down, and read it
to his friend. This was Monsieur the Viscount's last will and
Testament:--

"_To my successor in this cell._

"To you whom Providence has chosen to be the inheritor of my sorrows
and my captivity, I desire to make another bequest. There is in this
prison a toad. He was tamed by a man (peace to his memory!) who
tenanted this cell before me. He has been my f