ir respective duties to perform. Oftentimes pity
may be exercised, and the claims of justice waived; in the case of
the man you plead for, it is simply impossible."

He had risen in displeasure to pronounce these final words. When that
word "impossible" smote her as a sword, he touched a spring in the
table, a bell sounded, Elizabeth went forth,--the audience was over.

She went not with tears, but self-possessed, imperious in mien,
strong in despair. Coming into the presence of Madeline Desperiers,
it was not needful that she should speak to make known the result of
her audience.

"Have you learned when the vessel sails?" was her first question. It
was her reply to the lady's glance,--a glance for which there were
no attendant words in all the language.

"Tomorrow, Elizabeth."

"Are you ready?"

"I will be."

"Then I will give you to him. I promised that, too. I can fulfill that,
at least. You must not think the prison-walls too dreary. My mother"--

"I understand, Elizabeth."

And they sailed on the morrow. No delay for wandering among the
meadows of the pleasant town, for gossip with the men and women who
were in childhood playmates of her father and her mother; no
strolling along lovely river-banks. Chalons had nothing for Elizabeth;
only one green nook of all the world had anything for her,--an
island in the sea,--a prison on that island,--and there work to do
worthy of Gabriel.

But--wonder of wonders!

Paul and Silas sang songs in their prison, and the jailer heard them;
then there came an earthquake.

Who was he that found his cell-doors opened suddenly, and a
messenger from out the courts of heaven there to guide his steps?

History is full of marvellous records; I add this to those. The
eleventh hour goes always freighted with the weightiest events.

On board the vessel that carried Elizabeth and her charge back to
Foray went a messenger commissioned of the king. He took from court
to prison the partial pardon of Cordier. Liberty, but banishment
henceforth. Stephen Cordier should be constrained to faithfulness
towards his new love. Doomed to perpetual exile, he should be
tempted by no late loyalty to Madeline Desperiers. The new acts of
his drama should have nought to do with her. Justice forever!

Rascal that he was, according to the word of General Saterges, it
was rascality which the General could pardon. He had gained many a
victory in desperate strife,--now one other, the last and most