ice:

"Monsieur, one of us will not leave these woods alive. In the presence of
death, one tells the truth. I hope for your peace of mind, and my own,
that you will believe my last words. I swear to you, upon my honor and by
all that is sacred, that Madame de Bergenheim is innocent."

He bowed, and withdrew from Christian without waiting for a response.

Bergenheim and Gerfaut were out of sight of the others, and stood at
their posts with eyes fastened upon each other. The ditch was wide enough
to prevent the branches of the trees from troubling them; at the distance
of sixty feet, which separated them, each could see his adversary
standing motionless, framed by the green foliage. Suddenly, barking was
heard in the distance, partially drowned by the firing of a gun. A few
seconds later, two feeble reports were heard, followed by an imprecation
from Monsieur de Camier, whose caps flashed in the pan. The Baron, who
had just leaned forward that he might see better through the thicket,
raised his hand to warn Octave to hold himself in readiness. He then
placed himself in position. An extreme indecision marked Gerfaut's
attitude. After raising his gun, he dropped it to the ground with a
despondent gesture, as if his resolution to fire had suddenly abandoned
him; the pallor of death could not be more terrible than that which
overspread his features. The howling of the dogs and shouts of the
hunters increased. Suddenly another sound was heard. Low, deep growls,
followed by the crackling of branches, came from the woods opposite our
adversaries. The whole thicket seemed to tremble as if agitated by a
storm.

"Take care!" exclaimed Bergenheim, in a firm voice.

At the same moment an enormous head appeared, and the report of a gun was
heard. When Gerfaut looked through the smoke caused by his gun, at the
farther end of the ditch, nothing was to be seen but the foliage.

The boar, after crossing the clearing, vanished like a flash, leaving
behind him a trail of broken branches--and Bergenheim lay behind the
trunk of the old oak, upon which large drops of blood had already fallen.

CHAPTER XXVI

BERGENHEIM'S REVENGE

On the same morning the drawing-room of the Bergenheim castle was the
theatre of a quiet home scene very much like the one we described at the
beginning of this story. Mademoiselle de Corandeuil was seated in her
armchair reading the periodicals which had just arrived; Aline was
practising upon the pian