Swear to me, in the first place, and above all else, that you will not solicit my pardon.

Swear it, Amelie; swear it!" "Do I need to swear, dear ?" asked the young girl, bursting into tears.
"I promise it." "Promise it on the hour when I first said I loved you, on the hour when you answered that I was loved!" "On your life, on mine, on the past, on the future, on our smiles, on our tears." "I should die in any case, you see, Amelie, even though I had to beat my brains out against the wall; but I should die dishonored." "I promise you, Charles." "Then for my second request, Amelie: if we are taken and condemned, send me arms--arms or poison, the means of dying, any means.

Coming from you, death would be another joy." "Far or near, free or a prisoner, living or dead, you are my master, I am your slave; order and I obey." "That is all, Amelie; it is simple and clear, you see, no pardon, and the means of death." "Simple and clear, but terrible." "You will do it, will you not ?" "You wish me to ?" "I implore you." "Order or entreaty, Charles, your will shall be done." The young man held the girl, who seemed on the verge of fainting, in his left arm, and approached his mouth to hers.

But, just as their lips were about to touch, an owl's cry was heard, so close to the window that Amelie started and Charles raised his head.

The cry was repeated a second time, and then a third.
"Ah!" murmured Amelie, "do you hear that bird of ill-omen?
We are doomed, my friend." But Charles shook his head.
"That is not an owl, Amelie," he said; "it is the call of our companions.