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a single word of what he wanted to say. After several fruitless attempts I managed to make out,—
"'Forgive!'
"'If I forgive you, my angel? But I not only forgive you, I'd give my life for you!'
"The dreary expression of his eyes had deepened, still, grievous as they were, a happier look was to be seen in them. Little by little the heartfelt sadness teemed with ineffable sweetness. I could hardly bear his glances any longer; they were torturing me. Their burning fire sank far into my soul.
"Then he again uttered a whole phrase, the only two words of which I guessed rather than heard were—
"'Briancourt—letter.'
"After that his waning strength began to forsake him quite.
"As I looked at him I saw that his eyes were getting clouded, a faint film came over them, he did not seem to see me any more. Yes, they were getting ever more glazed and glassy.
"He did not attempt to speak, his lips were
