sume only at
the moment of quitting life for eternity. Under the portrait, in letters
red as blood, was written, "Aut Caesar aut nihil." The lady extended her
arm, and spoke as though it could hear her.

"I had begged thee to wait, although thy soul must have thirsted for
vengeance; and as the dead see all, thou hast seen, my love, that I
lived only not to kill my father, else I would have died after you; and
then, you know, on your bleeding corpse I uttered a vow to give death
for death, blood for blood, but I would not do it while the old man
called me his innocent child. Thou hast waited, beloved, and now I am
free: the last tie which bound me to earth is broken. I am all yours,
and now I am free to come to you."

She rose on one knee, kissed the hand, and then went on: "I can weep no
more--my tears have dried up in weeping over your tomb. In a few months
I shall rejoin you, and you then will reply to me, dear shade, to whom I
have spoken so often without reply." Diana then rose, and seating
herself in her chair, muttered, "Poor father!" and then fell into a
profound reverie. At last she called Remy.

The faithful servant soon appeared.

"Here I am, madame."

"My worthy friend, my brother--you, the last person who knows me on this
earth--say adieu to me."

"Why so, madame?"

"Because the time has come for us to separate."

"Separate!" cried the young man. "What do you mean, madame?"

"Yes, Remy. My project of vengeance seemed to me noble and pure while
there remained an obstacle between me and it, and I only contemplated it
from afar off; but now that I approach the execution of it--now that the
obstacle has disappeared--I do not draw back, but I do not wish to drag
with me into crime a generous and pure soul like yours; therefore you
must quit me, my friend."

Remy listened to the words of Diana with a somber look.

"Madame," replied he, "do you think you are speaking to a trembling old
man? Madame, I am but twenty-six; and snatched as I was from the tomb,
if I still live, it is for the accomplishment of some terrible
action--to play an active part in the work of Providence. Never, then,
separate your thoughts from mine, since we both have the same thoughts,
sinister as they may be. Where you go, I will go; what you do I will aid
in; or if, in spite of my prayers, you persist in dismissing me--"

"Oh!" murmured she, "dismiss you! What a word, Remy!"

"If you persist in that resolution," continued the