prisoners, and Chupin had been killed instantly.

Still the duchess dared not rejoice.

She feared that her tormentor had told his wife the secret of his power.

"I shall soon know," she thought.

The widow promptly made her appearance; but her manner was humble and
supplicating.

She had often heard her dear, dead husband say that madame was his
benefactress, and now she came to beg a little aid to enable her to open
a small drinking saloon.

Her son Polyte--ah! such a good son! just eighteen years old, and such
a help to his poor mother--had discovered a little house in a good
situation for the business, and if they only had three or four hundred
francs----

Mme. Blanche gave her five hundred francs.

"Either her humility is a mask," she thought, "or her husband has told
her nothing."

Five days later Polyte Chupin presented himself.

They needed three hundred francs more before they could commence
business, and he came on behalf of his mother to entreat the kind lady
to advance them.

Determined to discover exactly where she stood, the duchess shortly
refused, and the young man departed without a word.

Evidently the mother and son were ignorant of the facts. Chupin's secret
had died with him.

This happened early in January. Toward the last of February, Aunt Medea
contracted inflammation of the lungs on leaving a fancy ball, which she
attended in an absurd costume, in spite of all the attempts which her
niece made to dissuade her.

Her passion for dress killed her. Her illness lasted only three days;
but her sufferings, physical and mental, were terrible.

Constrained by her fear of death to examine her own conscience, she
saw plainly that by profiting by the crime of her niece she had been
as culpable as if she had aided her in committing it. She had been very
devout in former years, and now her superstitious fears were reawakened
and intensified. Her faith returned, accompanied by a _cortege_ of
terrors.

"I am lost!" she cried; "I am lost!"

She tossed to and fro upon her bed; she writhed and shrieked as if she
already saw hell opening to engulf her.

She called upon the Holy Virgin and upon all the saints to protect her.
She entreated God to grant her time for repentance and for expiation.
She begged to see a priest, swearing she would make a full confession.

Paler than the dying woman, but implacable, Blanche watched over her,
aided by that one of her personal attendants in whom she h