n the two doors which led to the staircase, and then I disappeared
in my turn and returned to the kitchen, which was our headquarters, in
order to take counsel with my mother and the Abbe.

"But Melani came back in terror, sobbing out: 'He is dying ... he is
dying ... come immediately ... he is dying....'

"My mother rushed out. My uncle had fallen onto the ground, full length
along the floor, and did not move. I fancy he was already dead. My
mother was superb at that moment! She went straight up to the two girls
who were kneeling by the body and trying to raise it up, and pointing to
the door with irresistible authority, dignity and majesty, she said:
'Now it is for you to go out.'

"And they went out without a protest, and without saying a word. I must
add, that I was getting ready to turn them out as unceremoniously as I
had done the parson and the porter.

"Then the Abbe Poivron administered the last sacrament to my uncle with
all the customary prayers and remitted all his sins, while my mother
sobbed, kneeling near her brother. Suddenly, however, she exclaimed: 'He
recognized me; he pressed my hand; I am sure he recognized me!!!... and
that he thanked me! Oh, God, what happiness!'

"Poor Mamma! If she had known or guessed to whom those thanks ought to
have been addressed!

"They laid my uncle on his bed; he was certainly dead that time.

"'Madame,' Melani said, 'we have no sheets to bury him in; all the linen
belongs to those two young ladies,' and when I looked at the omelette
which they had not finished, I felt inclined to laugh and to cry at the
same time. There are some strange moments and some strange sensations in
life, occasionally!

"We gave my uncle a magnificent funeral, with five speeches at the
grave. Baron de Croiselles, the Senator, showed in admirable terms, that
God always returns victorious into well-born souls which have gone
astray for a moment. All the members of the Royalist and Catholic party
followed the funeral procession with the enthusiasm of triumphers,
speaking of that beautiful death, after a somewhat restless life."

* * * * *

Viscount Roger ceased speaking, and those around him laughed. Then
somebody said: "Bah! That is the story of conversions _in Extremis_."

THE SIGNAL

The little Marchioness de Rennedon was still asleep in her closed and
perfumed bedroom, in her soft, low bed, between her sheets of delicate
cambric, fine as lac