Just, too, when he was sensible that the desire of life was making a few fierce struggles in his own breast.
"You seem to look forward to death with great cheerfulness, Mademoiselle." The large eyes were raised to him with a look of surprise at the irritation of his tone.
"I think," she said, gently, "that one does not look forward _to_, but _beyond_ it." She stopped and hesitated, still watching his face, and then spoke hurriedly and diffidently:-- "Monsieur, it seems impertinent to make such suggestions to you, who have doubtless a full fund of consolation; but I remember, when a child, going to hear the preaching of a monk who was famous for his eloquence.

He said that his text was from the Scriptures--it has been in my mind all to-day--'_There the wicked cease from troubling, and there the weary be at rest._' The man is becoming impatient.

Adieu! Monsieur.

A thousand thanks and a thousand blessings." She offered her cheek, on which there was not a ray of increased colour, and Monsieur the Viscount stooped and kissed it, with a thick mist gathering in his eyes, through which he could not see her face.
"Adieu! Valerie!" "Adieu! Louis!" So they met, and so they parted; and as Monsieur the Viscount went back to his prison, he flattered himself that the last link was broken for him in the chain of earthly interests.
When he reached the cell he was tired, and lay down, and in a few seconds a soft scrambling over the floor announced the return of Monsieur Crapaud from his hiding-place.

With one wrinkled leg after another he clambered on to the stone, and Monsieur the Viscount started when he saw him.
"Friend Crapaud! I had actually forgotten thee.