The glimmers of hope, of opportunity, passed before his eyes.

He had only to sit still and say nothing.

That and no more.

And what was truth to him in the face of that great passion which had flung him prostrate in spirit at her adored feet! And now it was done! Fatality had willed it! With the eyes of a mortal struck by the maddening thunderbolt of the gods, Renouard looked up to the sky, an immense black pall dusted over with gold, on which great shudders seemed to pass from the breath of life affirming its sway..