ng at night across the demented lover, and lighted up his egotism
(suicide, like homicide, is generally a fit of maniacal egotism), even
to his eyes blinded by fury.

"Wretch that I am," he shrieked. "Fly, Josephine, fly! escape this
moment, that my better angel whispers to me. Do you hear? begone, while
it is time."

"I will not leave you, Camille."

"I say you shall. Go to your mother and Rose; go to those you love, and
I can pity; go to the chapel and thank Heaven for your escape."

"Yes, but not without you, Camille. I am afraid to leave you."

"You have more to fear if you stay. Well, I can't wait any longer. Stay,
then, and live; and learn from me how to love Jean Raynal."

He levelled the pistol at himself.

Josephine threw herself on him with a cry, and seized his arm. With the
strength excitement lent her she got the better, and all but overpowered
him. But, as usual, the man's strength lasted longer, and with a
sustained effort he threw her off; then, pale and panting, raised the
pistol to take his life. This time she moved neither hand nor foot; but
she palsied his rash hand with a word.

"No; I LOVE YOU."

CHAPTER XIII.

There lie the dead corpses of those words on paper; but my art is
powerless to tell you how they were uttered, those words, potent as a
king's, for they saved a life.

They were a cry of terror and a cry of reproach and a cry of love
unfathomable.

The weapon shook in his hand. He looked at her with growing astonishment
and joy; she at him fixedly and anxiously, her hands clasped in
supplication.

"As you used to love me?"

"More, far more. Give me the pistol. I love you, dearest. I love you."

At these delicious words he lost all power of resistance, she saw;
and her soft and supple hand stole in and closed upon his, and gently
withdrew the weapon, and threw it into the water. "Good Camille! now
give me the other."

"How do you know there is another?"

"I know you are not the man to kill a woman and spare yourself. Come."

"Josephine, have pity on me, do not deceive me; pray do not take this,
my only friend, from me, unless you really love me."

"I love you; I adore you," was her reply.

She leaned her head on his shoulder, but with her hand she sought his,
and even as she uttered those loving words she coaxed the weapon from
his now unresisting grasp.

"There, it is gone; you are saved from death--saved from crime." And
with that, the danger was over, sh