dare tell you, but your beautiful color--"

A frightful cry which Madame de Bergenheim uttered made the young girl
draw back in fright.

"Clemence! Clemence!" exclaimed Mademoiselle de Corandeuil, who thought
that her niece had gone insane.

"Did you not hear?" she cried, with an accent of terror impossible to
describe. She darted suddenly toward the drawing-room door; but, instead
of opening it, she leaned against it with arms crossed. Then she ran two
or three times around the room in a sort of frenzy, and ended by falling
upon her knees before the sofa and burying her head in its cushions.

This scene bewildered the two women. While Mademoiselle de Corandeuil
tried to raise Clemence, Aline, still more frightened, ran out of the
room to call for aid. A rumor which had just begun to arise in the
courtyard was distinctly heard when the door was thrown open. A moment
more, and a piercing shriek was heard, and the young girl rushed into the
parlor; throwing herself on her knees beside her sister-in-law she
pressed her to her breast with convulsive energy.

As she felt herself seized in this fashion, Clemence raised her head and,
placing her hands upon Aline's shoulders, she pushed her backward and
gazed at her with eyes that seemed to devour her.

"Which? which?" she asked, in a harsh voice.

"My brother--covered with blood!" stammered Aline.

Madame de Bergenheim pushed her aside and threw herself upon the sofa.
Her first feeling was a horrible joy at not hearing the name of Octave;
but she tried to smother her hysterical utterances by pressing her mouth
against the cushion upon which her face was leaning.

A noise of voices was heard in the vestibule; the greatest confusion
seemed to reign among the people outside. At last, several men entered
the drawing room; at their head was Monsieur de Camier, whose ruddy face
had lost all its color.

"Do not be frightened, ladies," said he, in a trembling voice; "do not be
frightened. It is only a slight accident, without any danger. Monsieur de
Bergenheim was wounded in the hunt," he continued, addressing
Mademoiselle de Corandeuil.

At last, the folding-doors were thrown open, and two servants appeared,
bearing the Baron upon a mattress.

When the servants had deposited their burden in front of one of the
windows, Aline threw herself upon her brother's body, uttering
heartrending cries. Madame de Bergenheim did not stir; she lay upon the
sofa with eyes and ears bu