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took her arm, to hurry her away; but she nimbly released herself.

      “Wait,” said she. “I have some money, some jewels. I will take them.”

      “It is useless. Leave everything behind. I have a fortune, Juliette; let us fly!”

      She had already opened her jewel box, and was throwing everything of value that she possessed pell mell into a little travelling bag.

      “Ah, you are ruining me,” cried Noel, “you are ruining me!”

      He spoke thus; but his heart was overflowing with joy.

      “What sublime devotion! She loves me truly,” he said to himself; “for my sake, she renounces her happy life without hesitation; for my sake, she sacrifices all!”

      Juliette had finished her preparations, and was hastily tying on her bonnet, when the door-bell rang.

      “It is the police!” cried Noel, becoming, if possible, even more livid.

      The young woman and her lover stood as immovable as two statues, with great drops of perspiration on their foreheads, their eyes dilated, and their ears listening intently. A second ring was heard, then a third.

      Charlotte appeared walking on tip-toe.

      “There are several,” she whispered; “I heard them talking together.”

      Grown tired of ringing, they knocked loudly on the door. The sound of a voice reached the drawing-room, and the word “law” was plainly heard.

      “No more hope!” murmured Noel.

      “Don’t despair,” cried Juliette; “try the servants’ staircase!”

      “You may be sure they have not forgotten it.”

      Juliette went to see, and returned dejected and terrified. She bad distinguished heavy foot-steps on the landing, made by some one endeavouring to walk softly.

      “There must be some way of escape!” she cried fiercely.

      “Yes,” replied Noel, “one way. I have given my word. They are picking the lock. Fasten all the doors, and let them break them down; it will give me time.”

      Juliette and Charlotte ran to carry out his directions. Then Noel, leaning against the mantel piece, seized his revolver and pointed it at his breast.

      But Juliette, who had returned, perceiving the movement, threw herself upon her lover, but so violently that the revolver turned aside and went off. The shot took effect, the bullet entering Noel’s stomach. He uttered a frightful cry.

      Juliette had made his death a terrible punishment; she had prolonged his agony.

      He staggered, but remained standing, supporting himself by the mantel piece, while the blood flowed copiously from his wound.

      Juliette clung to him, trying to wrest the revolver from his grasp.

      “You shall not kill yourself,” she cried, “I will not let you. You are mine; I love you! Let them come. What can they do to you? If they put you in prison, you can escape. I will help you, we will bribe the jailors. Ah, we will live so happily together, no matter where, far away in America where no one knows us!”

      The outer door had yielded; the police were now picking the lock of the door of the ante-chamber.

      “Let me finish!” murmured Noel; “they must not take me alive!”

      And, with a supreme effort, triumphing over his dreadful agony, he released himself, and roughly pushed Juliette away. She fell down near the sofa.

      Then, he once more aimed his revolver at the place where he felt his heart beating, pulled the trigger and rolled to the floor.

      It was full time, for the police at that moment entered the room.

      Their first thought was, that before shooting himself, Noel had shot his mistress. They knew of cases where people had romantically desired to quit this world in company; and, moreover, had they not heard two reports? But Juliette was already on her feet again.

      “A doctor,” she cried, “a doctor! He can not be dead!”

      One man ran out; while the others, under old Tabaret’s direction, raised the body, and carried it to Madame Juliette’s bedroom where they laid it on the bed.

      “For his sake, I trust his wounds are mortal!” murmured the old detective, whose anger left him at the sight. “After all, I loved him as though he were my own child; his name is still in my will!”

      Old Tabaret stopped. Noel just then uttered a groan, and opened his eyes.

      “You see that he will live!” cried Juliette.

      The advocate shook his head feebly, and, for a moment, he tossed about painfully on the bed, passing his right hand first under his coat, and then under his pillow. He even succeeded in turning himself half-way towards the wall and then back again.

      Upon a sign, which was at once understood, someone placed another pillow under his head. Then in a broken, hissing voice, he uttered a few words: “I am the assassin,” he said. “Write it down, I will sign it; it will please Albert. I owe him that at least.”

      While they were writing, he drew Juliette’s head close to his lips.

      “My fortune is beneath the pillow,” he whispered. “I give it all to you.”

      A flow of blood rose to his mouth; and they all thought him dead. But he still had strength enough to sign his confession, and to say jestingly to M. Tabaret, “Ah, ha, my friend, so you go in for the detective business, do you! It must be great fun to trap one’s friends in person! Ah, I have had a fine game; but, with three women in the play, I was sure to lose.”

      The death struggle commenced, and, when the doctor arrived, he could only announce the decease of M. Noel Gerdy, advocate.

      Chapter XX.

       Table of Contents

      Some months later, one evening, at old Mademoiselle de Goello’s house, the Marchioness d’Arlange, looking ten years younger than when we saw her last, was giving her dowager friends an account of the wedding of her granddaughter Claire, who had just married the Viscount Albert de Commarin.

      “The wedding,” said she, “took place on our estate in Normandy, without any flourish of trumpets. My son-inlaw wished it; for which I think he is greatly to blame. The scandal raised by the mistake of which he had been the victim, called for a brilliant wedding. That was my opinion, and I did not conceal it. But the boy is as stubborn as his father, which is saying a good deal; he persisted in his obstinacy. And my impudent granddaughter, obeying beforehand her future husband, also sided against me. It is, however, of no consequence; I defy anyone to find today a single individual with courage enough to confess that he ever for an instant doubted Albert’s innocence. I have left the young people in all the bliss of the honeymoon, billing and cooing like a pair of turtle doves. It must be admitted that they have paid dearly for their happiness. May they be happy then, and may they have lots of children, for they will have no difficulty in bringing them up and in providing for them. I must tell you that, for the first time in his life, and probably for the last, the Count de Commarin has behaved like an angel! He has settled all his fortune on his son, absolutely all. He intends living alone on one of his estates. I am afraid the poor dear old man will not live long. I am not sure that he has entirely recovered from that last attack. Anyhow, my grandchild is settled, and grandly too. I know what it has cost me, and how economical I shall have to be. But I do not think much of those parents who hesitate at any pecuniary sacrifice when their children’s happiness is at stake.”

      The marchioness forgot, however, to state that, a week before the wedding, Albert freed her from a very embarrassing position, and had discharged a considerable amount of her

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