pierce the
heart with keener agonies than any the steel of a foeman can inflict.
Fear not to task me beyond my strength."

"I will be as brief as possible," said the lady. "Your father, Henri,
was of noble birth and possessed of fortune. My own share of the
world's goods was small, and yet it was on this pittance alone that we
were sustained, till the exertions of a generous friend procured you,
under the name of De Grandville, (my maiden name,) a commission in the
guards."

"Then De Grandville was not the name of my father."

"No--he belonged to the noble house of Montmorenci. The early years of
our married life were passed in happiness that I always feared was too
great to be enduring. It was brought to a bitter and miserable end.
Deadly enemies--for the best and noblest have their foes--conspired
against your father, and he was accused--falsely accused, mark me--of
treason to his king and country. I will not tell you by what forgery
and perjury he was made to appear guilty--but he was convicted--and
sentenced--"

"Sentenced!"

"Ay, sentenced, and suffered. He died by the hands of _Monsieur de
Paris_!"

"_Monsieur de Paris_!"

"The executioner!"

Henri uttered a piercing cry, and covered his face with his hands. He
remained a long time in this attitude, his frame convulsed by the
agonies of grief, while his mother watched, with streaming eyes, the
effect of her communication. At length he removed his hands, and
raised his head. His countenance was deadly pale,--the only indication
of the train of emotions which had just convulsed him,--but his look
was firm and high.

"Mother," said he, pressing her hand, "I thank you. It was better to
learn this dreadful secret from your lips than from the words of
another. Henceforth we will live for each other--we shall have a
common sorrow and a common fate. I pray you to excuse me for a few
moments. I will soon rejoin you, but I have first a duty to perform."

The young guardsman passed from his mother's presence to that of the
Baron de Clairville.

"Welcome, welcome! my brave boy," said the old soldier. "You have
fairly won your spurs."

"Sir, you flatter me," replied Henri, gravely.

"Not at all. Saxe himself says that more distinguished gallantry never
fell beneath his notice."

"You think then, baron, I can claim a post of honor and danger in the
next engagement?"

"You can lead the Forlorn Hope if you like."

"Enough, baron. I came to ask your forgive