l!"

"You don't know," said Valerie, "what death is; what it is to be obliged
to think of the morrow of your last day on earth, and of what is to
be found in the grave.--Worms for the body--and for the soul,
what?--Lisbeth, I know there is another life! And I am given over to
terrors which prevent my feeling the pangs of my decomposing body.--I,
who could laugh at a saint, and say to Crevel that the vengeance of God
took every form of disaster.--Well, I was a true prophet.--Do not trifle
with sacred things, Lisbeth; if you love me, repent as I do."

"I!" said Lisbeth. "I see vengeance wherever I turn in nature; insects
even die to satisfy the craving for revenge when they are attacked. And
do not these gentlemen tell us"--and she looked at the priest--"that God
is revenged, and that His vengeance lasts through all eternity?"

The priest looked mildly at Lisbeth and said:

"You, madame, are an atheist!"

"But look what I have come to," said Valerie.

"And where did you get this gangrene?" asked the old maid, unmoved from
her peasant incredulity.

"I had a letter from Henri which leaves me in no doubt as to my fate.
He has murdered me. And--just when I meant to live honestly--to die an
object of disgust!

"Lisbeth, give up all notions of revenge. Be kind to that family to whom
I have left by my will everything I can dispose of. Go, child, though
you are the only creature who, at this hour, does not avoid me with
horror--go, I beseech you, and leave me.--I have only time to make my
peace with God!"

"She is wandering in her wits," said Lisbeth to herself, as she left the
room.

The strongest affection known, that of a woman for a woman, had not such
heroic constancy as the Church. Lisbeth, stifled by the miasma, went
away. She found the physicians still in consultation. But Bianchon's
opinion carried the day, and the only question now was how to try the
remedies.

"At any rate, we shall have a splendid _post-mortem_," said one of
his opponents, "and there will be two cases to enable us to make
comparisons."

Lisbeth went in again with Bianchon, who went up to the sick woman
without seeming aware of the malodorous atmosphere.

"Madame," said he, "we intend to try a powerful remedy which may save
you--"

"And if you save my life," said she, "shall I be as good-looking as
ever?"

"Possibly," said the judicious physician.

"I know your _possibly_," said Valerie. "I shall look like a woman who
has fallen