ed. This
young gentleman will read it to us. His eyes are not dim and troubled.
Something tells me that when I hear this letter, I shall find out
whether my son lives. Why do you not read it to me, Camille?" cried she,
almost fiercely.

Camille, thus pressed, obeyed mechanically, and began to read Raynal's
letter aloud, scarce knowing what he did, but urged and driven by the
baroness.

"MY DEAR MOTHER,--I hope all are well at Beaurepaire, as I am, or I hope
soon to be. I received a wound in our last skirmish; not a very severe
one, but it put an end to my writing for some time."

"Go on, dear Camille! go on."

"The page ends there, madame."

The paper was thin, and Camille, whose hand trembled, had some
difficulty in detaching the leaves from one another. He succeeded,
however, at last, and went on reading and writhing.

"By the way, you must address your next letter to me as Colonel Raynal.
I was promoted just before this last affair, but had not time to tell
you; and my wound stopped my writing till now."

"There, there!" cried the baroness. "He was Colonel Raynal, and Colonel
Raynal was not killed."

The doctor implored her not to interrupt.

"Go on, Camille. Why do you hesitate? what is the matter? Do for pity's
sake go on, sir."

Camille cast a look of agony around, and put his hand to his brow,
on which large drops of cold perspiration, like a death dew, were
gathering; but driven to the stake on all sides, he gasped on rather
than read, for his eye had gone down the page.

"A namesake of mine, Commandant Raynal,"--

"Ah!"

"has not been--so fortunate. He"--

"Go on! go on!"

The wretched man could now scarcely utter Raynal's words; they came from
him in a choking groan.

"he was killed, poor fellow! while heading a gallant charge upon the
enemy's flank."

He ground the letter convulsively in his hand, then it fell all crumpled
on the floor.

"Bless you, Camille!" cried the baroness, "bless you! bless you! I have
a son still."

She stooped with difficulty, took up the letter, and, kissing it again
and again, fell on her knees, and thanked Heaven aloud before them all.
Then she rose and went hastily out, and her voice was heard crying very
loud, "Jacintha! Jacintha!"

The doctor followed in considerable anxiety for the effects of this
violent joy on so aged a person. Three remained behind, panting and
pale like those to whom dead Lazarus burst the tomb, and came forth in a
mome