withdraw, he made a sign to the soldiers to
approach both Jocelyne and Alayn, and prevent their interference.

Jocelyne wrung her hands.

"Do you not fear the reproaches of your murdered son?" continued Captain
Landry, turning to Perrotte, with an expression of perfidious hypocrisy
in his eyes, and again pouring his words lowly, but distinctly, into her
ear. "Do you not fear that he should rise from his tomb, and, showing
the bloody wounds of that fatal night, cry for vengeance on his
murderers, and curse the weakness of that mother who would screen and
shelter them? Do you not fear that Heaven should condemn you as a friend
to the destroyers of the righteous? Think on your slaughtered kindred,
woman!"

"Mercy! mercy! my son!" cried the old woman, springing up with her hands
outstretched, as if to repel a spectre. "Oh! hide that streaming blood!
Look not so angry on me! Blood shall have blood, thou say'st; so be it.
Vengeance is the Lord's! and He shall avenge his people!"

"Where is he?" enquired Landry, also rising, and watching her every
movement.

"There! there!" exclaimed the excited woman, pointing to the corner of
the room.

In spite of the attempt of Jocelyne, who was now restrained by the
soldiers, to interrupt him, Captain Landry walked to the corner
indicated, and after a few attempts succeeded in discovering the secret
of the concealed recess.

"Count Philip de la Mole, you are my prisoner, under warrant of his
majesty the King, and by order of the Queen-mother," he said, as the
young nobleman appeared to view.

Jocelyne uttered a cry of despair.

"Conduct me where you are bidden, sir," said La Mole, offering his
sword. "My sweet Jocelyne, farewell!--your kindly interest in my fate I
shall never forget. But we shall meet again. Fear nothing for me; I will
prove my innocence."

The unhappy girl fell at the feet of the captured nobleman, and wetted
his outstretched hand with her tears, as she pressed it to her lips.

"My strict orders," said Captain Landry, "were to arrest all those who
should be convicted of harbouring the criminal. Forget not, then,
cousin Jocelyne, that I spare you so hard a lot. But my duty compels me
to adopt other measures. Come, sir!"

When Philip de la Mole had been conducted from the room by the agents of
the Queen-mother, Jocelyne turned to her grandmother, without rising
from the ground, and exclaimed in the bitterest despair--

"Mother--mother--you have killed me!"