alarmed at what Samuel asked him, at
first refused his request.

But the Jew, employing persuasions, entreaties, tears, and at last the
seduction of the jingling gold, succeeded in conquering the scruples of
the gravedigger. Though the latter trembled at the thought of what he
promised, he said to Samuel in an agitated tone: "To-morrow night, then,
at two o'clock."

"I shall be behind the wall," answered Samuel, pointing out the place
with the aid of a lantern. "I will throw three stones into the cemetery,
for a signal."

"Yes, three stones--as a signal," replied the gravedigger shuddering, and
wiping the cold sweat from his forehead.

With considerable remains of vigor, notwithstanding his great age, Samuel
availed himself of the broken surface of the low wall, and climbing over
it, soon disappeared. The gravedigger returned home with hasty strides.
From time to time, he looked fearfully behind him, as though he had been
pursued by some fatal vision.

On the evening after the funeral of Rose and Blanche, Rodin wrote two
letters. The first, addressed to his mysterious correspondent at Rome,
alluded to the deaths of Jacques Rennepont, and Rose and Blanche Simon,
as well as to the cession of M. Hardy's property, and the donation of
Gabriel--events which reduced the claimants of the inheritance to
two--Mdlle. de Cardoville and Djalma. This first note written by Rodin
for Rome, contained only the following words: "Five from seven leaves
two. Announce this result to the Cardinal-Prince. Let him go on. I
advance advance-advance!" The second note, in a feigned hand, was
addressed to Marshal Simon, to be delivered by a sure messenger,
contained these few lines: "If there is yet time, make haste to return.
Your daughters are both dead. You shall learn who killed them."

CHAPTER LVIII.

RUIN.

It is the day after the death of Marshal Simon's daughters. Mdlle. de
Cardoville is yet ignorant of the sad end of her young relatives. Her
countenance is radiant with happiness, and never has she looked more
beautiful; her eye has never been more brilliant, her complexion more
dazzling white, her lip of a richer coral. According to her somewhat
eccentric custom of dressing herself in her own house in a picturesque
style, Adrienne wears to-day, though it is about three o'clock in the
afternoon, a pale green watered-silk dress, with a very full skirt, the
sleeves and bodice slashed with rose-colored ribbon, and adorned with