fails, I shall die. That was decided on the day when I learned that you
could marry none other than Maurice d'Escorval.

"But the conspiracy will not succeed; and I understand your father well
enough to know that he will not survive its defeat. And if Maurice and
your brother should both be killed, what would become of you? Oh, my
God, would you not be reduced to beggary?

"The thought has haunted me continually. I have reflected, and this is
my last will:

"I give and bequeath to you all my property, all that I possess:

"My house, the Borderie, with the gardens and vineyards pertaining
thereto, the woodland and the pastures of Berarde, and five lots of land
at Valrollier.

"You will find an inventory of this property, and of my other
possessions which I devise to you, deposited with the lawyer at
Sairmeuse.

"You can accept this bequest without fear; for, having no parents, my
control over my property is absolute.

"If you do not wish to remain in France, this property will sell for at
least forty thousand francs.

"But it would, it seems to me, be better for you to remain in your own
country. The house on the Borderie is comfortable and convenient, since
I have had it divided into three rooms and thoroughly repaired.

"Upstairs is a room that has been fitted up by the best upholsterer in
Montaignac. I intended it for you. Beneath the hearth-stone in this room
you will find a box containing three hundred and twenty-seven louis d'or
and one hundred and forty-six livres.

"If you refuse this gift, it will be because you scorn me even after I
am dead. Accept it, if not for your own sake, for the sake of--I dare
not write it; but you will understand my meaning only too well.

"If Maurice is not killed, and I shall try my best to stand between him
and danger, he will marry you. Then you will, perhaps, be obliged to ask
his consent in order to accept my gift. I hope that he will not refuse
it. One is not jealous of the dead!

"Besides, he knows well that you have scarcely vouchsafed a glance to
the poor peasant who has loved you so much.

"Do not be offended at anything I have said, I am in such agony that I
cannot weigh my words.

"Adieu, adieu, Marie-Anne.

"Chanlouineau."

Maurice also read twice, before handing it back, this letter whose every
word palpitated with sublime passion.

He was silent for a moment, then, in a husky voice, he said:

"You cannot refuse; it would be wrong."

His emotio