ur name, on mine, on that of our protector, our friend."

"Where are you going?"

"To Nantes!"

"To Nantes!"

"Yes. This order is the pardon of Pontcalec, Montlouis, and Talhouet and
Du Couedic. They are condemned to death, and they will owe me their
lives. Oh, do not keep me here, Helene; think of what you suffered just
now, when you were watching for me."

"And, consequently, what I am to suffer again."

"No, my Helene; for this time there is no fear, no obstacle: this time
you are sure of my return."

"Gaston, shall I never see you, but at rare intervals and for a few
minutes? Ah! Gaston, I have so much need of happiness."

"You shall be happy, Helene, be assured."

"My heart sinks."

"Ah! when you know all!"

"But tell me at once."

"Helene, the only thing wanting to my happiness is the permission to
fall at your feet and tell you all--but I have promised--nay more, I
have sworn."

"Always some secret!"

"This, at least, is a joyful one."

"Oh, Gaston, Gaston, I tremble."

"Look at me, Helene; can you fear when you see the joy that sparkles in
my eyes?"

"Why do you not take me with you, Gaston?"

"Helene!"

"I beg of you to let us go together."

"Impossible."

"Why?"

"Because, first, I must be at Nantes in twenty hours."

"I will follow you, even should I die with fatigue."

"Then, because you are no longer your own mistress; you have here a
protector, to whom you owe respect and obedience."

"The duke?"

"Yes; the duke. Oh, when you know what he has done for me--for us."

"Let us leave a letter for him, and he will forgive us."

"No, no; he will say we are ungrateful; and he would be right. No,
Helene; while I go to Bretagne, swift as a saving angel, you shall
remain here and hasten the preparations for our marriage. And when I
return I shall at once demand my wife; at your feet I shall bless you
for the happiness and the honor you bestow on me."

"You leave me, Gaston?" cried Helene, in a voice of distress.

"Oh, not thus, Helene, not thus; I cannot leave you so. Oh, no--be
joyous, Helene; smile on me; say to me--in giving me your hand--that
hand so pure and faithful--'Go, Gaston--go--for it is your duty.'"

"Yes, my friend," said Helene, "perhaps I ought to speak thus, but I
have not the strength. Oh! Gaston, forgive me."

"Oh, Helene, when I am so joyful."

"Gaston, it is beyond my power; remember that you take with you the half
of my life."

Gaston heard the clo