for one night! If we were to take it, they might well call us birds of prey-Ravens!"

"You know, then, that you are thus nicknamed?" said Gaspard, smiling.

at us.

"Certainly; but what does it signify to us? They fear us, they point Patience! we well know that we have never done evil, and we live in peace, awaiting till God calls us to his holy paradise."

Monsieur de Gréoulx was touched by these words of such simple philosophy, and so full of faith.

"I shall come," said he, shaking hands with the two Ravens-" I shall often come to see you. Keep this money, you may lend it to me if I

should ever want it."

On saying this, he again put the purse into Suzanne's apron, who said to him,

"This is not ours; we will take care of it for you."

"One even

"You have cause to remember our door," said Veronique. ing we were alone on the quay, a boatman threatened us, you came to our rescue, and conducted us home."

"Yes, I recollect; that was the day I arrived," he replied, in an absent manner, for he fancied he saw a slight movement behind the bed

curtains.

While

"She is still asleep," said Veronique, guessing his thoughts. He then rose and departed, promising to return again soon. the two old women were escorting him to the door, Gabrielle opened the curtains and looked out; she was kneeling on the bed, and for an hour past had been listening to and looking at the handsome Gaspard de Gréoulx. When the Ravens returned, she lay down, and pretended to be sleeping.

"Sister," said Veronique," this young man will soon, perhaps, be in want of money. We must not wait until he asks us for it; we will, in the first place, give him up this. But what are fifty crowns? We must add all that is in the blue cloth bag to it."

"I thought of that; there are some crowns at the bottom of the cupboard, and, if necessary, we will go to Monsieur Vincent."

"How handsome he is! how gentlemanly!" said Veronique, sighing. Come, come," interrupted Suzanne, " you think too much of him. What does the family of Gréoulx signify to us? What is there now in common between it and us? As to Gaspard, that is different; he has not despised us because we are poor women. He has a grateful heart. I hope he may be able to say some day the Ravens did me a service!"

VI.

WHEN Monsieur de Gréoulx, some days afterwards, revisited this house, into which few willingly entered, he found Gabrielle seated before the fire with the two Ravens. Veronique had wrapped her up in a large black gown, which appeared to have been used by some doctor; her delicate white hands emerged from a pair of sleeves of enormous width; her fair head was lost in an immense silk hood, and a kind of velvet cape covered her shoulders. This odd costume had been taken from the wardrobe of the Ravens, who had a long time collected the goods of July-VOL. CXXXIV. NO. DXXXV.

2 B

those whom they attended on their death-beds. Gabrielle's sweet and charming countenance peered forth from these dingy draperies like a flower from among dark leaves; her face was turned towards the fire, and the flames caused a momentary flush on her pale cheeks; her calm and suffering beauty struck Monsieur de Gréoulx.

"She is better, is she not?" said he, in a low voice to Veronique ; and as she turned her eyes slowly towards him, he added, while approaching her with as much respect as if he were addressing her in the drawingroom of a duchess, "I heard, mademoiselle, that you were convalescent, and no one could be more delighted than I was at it."

At these words, at the sound of that voice, Gabrielle became still paler, so great was her emotion, but she could not understand whether it were joy or fear which made her heart beat so violently. For three weeks past she had had but one recollection, one thought-it was that of the man whom she had seen dead, and who had come to life, as if her tears, her fervent prayers, had recalled him from the tomb. She could not find words to reply to Monsieur de Gréoulx; she bowed, smiling feebly, and then fell back into the kind of arm-chair in which Veronique had placed her.

“She is a little fatigued," said Suzanne, giving her own chair to the young man; "she recovers more slowly than we thought she would. The other evening, when you left us, she was sleeping; well, she had a bad night; the fever returned; we were up until daylight; at length, by God's help, she got over this relapse, and now she is recovering, and I think next Sunday we may take her to mass. But her spirits do not return; she gives way too much. Come, my child, exert yourself a little, and speak to the chevalier; he has sent every day to inquire for you." "Monsieur, I am very much obliged to you," said Gabrielle, in a faint voice. "I am better-I am quite recovered. I have had so much care taken of me. . . . Oh! never, never shall I forget it! . . . . Suzanne Veronique have saved my life

...

On uttering these words, she burst into tears. But it was not an emotion of gratitude alone which affected her so deeply; she required a pretext for crying.

"There, dry your eyes; I insist upon your not distressing yourself in this way," exclaimed Veronique; "it will do you harm, and, besides, what a charming reception for the chevalier! Now, dry your eyes quickly, and don't talk of anything unpleasant. A year of past trouble is less grievous than a minute of trouble to come,' says the proverb. Next Sunday, if the weather be fine, you will go with us to church, and thank God for your recovery."

On saying this, she passed her large hand over the young girl's forehead as if to disperse a cloud of sadness, and settled her more comfortably in her arm-chair. Monsieur de Gréoulx looked at her with much interest. Never had he seen a woman surrounded by such strong contrasts; that beautiful youthful head appeared between the parchment faces of the two Ravens, like a flower in the midst of thorny brambles ; her presence seemed to enliven this dwelling, where everything was of such gloomy poverty. Monsieur de Gréoulx sighed while turning his eyes from Gabrielle, and he discovered the crown of immortelles and faded pinks hung above the chimney-piece.

"Gabrielle brought that here," said Veronique. "I found this crown over her arm when she was brought home. What a fancy !"

They say it is lucky to have the flowers of the dead!" interrupted the young girl. "I thought I might take it without permission."

"Indeed! It was an odd fancy," said Suzanne, jesting in a goodnatured manner; "but it ought to have lost its virtue, as the chevalier has come to life."

"Yes, that is ... another thought then struck me

"Let us have it; tell us what it is."

"It is, that I felt myself so ill, and I thought perhaps the crown might serve for me"

"If I had known that, I would have thrown it into the fire," interrupted Veronique, moving towards it.

"No, no, I pray you," cried Gabrielle; "I wish to keep these flowers. Thinking of death won't make me die! However, at some future time, far off, I wish this crown to be used for me."

"But, my child, you are calculating upon dying unmarried,” replied Veronique; "what a premature resolution!"

Gabrielle looked down, and did not reply; but a slight movement of the eyebrows, and the expression of her mouth, manifested an affirmative. "She is right!" thought Monsieur de Gréoulx. "So young, so lovely, and so poor! A noble family would scorn her. She would not marry a person in a lower rank than herself, and therefore she must remain single all her life."

The young girl shut her eyes, as if this conversation had fatigued her, and the Ravens began speaking in a low voice to Monsieur de Gréoulx. "Well!" asked Veronique, "have you attempted any reconciliation with the baron ?"

"None; the only way to obtain his pardon would be to announce to him that I am ready to marry Mademoiselle de la Varrière, and at this price I do not desire it."

"However, matters cannot rest thus." "I am aware of it," he replied, sadly. "I have taken my resolution; I will write to the baron a letter, which will be of no use, I am certain. He will not the less disinherit me, but I wish to assure him that, under any other circumstances, I would have acceded to his wish; that I have always a great respect for him, and that my greatest desire is that he should live long and happily. After that I shall depart; I will go and serve the king, and perhaps I may make my way by the career of arms. If a ball cuts me off, what matter! I shall die without regret, for there is no one to whom my life can be of any use."

Gabrielle drew down her hood, as if the light had fatigued her, and remained with her face half hidden, her hands clasped, and pressed against her chest.

"That is my determination," continued Monsieur de Gréoulx. "I have no alternative."

"But the baron cannot entirely disinherit you," said Veronique. "You are his only descendant in a direct line, and according to the custom in Provence no other relation can be substituted to assume your rights."

"That is true," answered the young man, a little astonished to hear this old woman speak about the custom of Provence; "but our noble fiefs are not inalienable."

"And you believe that he will go so far as to injure his fortune-so far as to sell his property-in order to disinherit you?"

"You can't know much of him if you doubt it; he has never failed in accomplishing any threat. I have resisted him, I have disobeyed him; there is only one way of regaining his favour, and I refuse. I well know, after all this, what I may expect from him."

"You must not, however, do anything hastily," said Suzanne, after reflecting. "The baron lets you remain quietly here; stay and see what may happen; we will help you in every way in our power. The Chevalier de Gréoulx must not live like an attorney's clerk; we will lend you

money

"But who knows if I shall ever be able to repay you?" interrupted the chevalier. "Remember, my future fate is very uncertain, and I may die without leaving enough to defray the expenses of my funeral; then who would pay my debts ?"

"Don't trouble yourself about that," replied the Raven, abruptly; "you may accept, without scruple, our offer. I say you may."

Gabrielle listened, with her head bent down and her face hidden beneath the hood; the distress which she felt was suddenly calmed; she would willingly have embraced these two old women who had just dissuaded Monsieur de Gréoulx from carrying out his plans. She spoke not a word as long as his visit lasted, but when he had gone she rose, and exclaimed, with a sweet smile, while taking Veronique's hand:

"How kind you are! I feel quite well. How I long to be entirely recovered. I have given you so much trouble. How delighted I shall be to work for you; to be useful in some way to you."

From this day forth Monsieur de Gréoulx often visited the Ravens; there was not great mortality in the town, so the two Ravens found time to receive his visits. He generally came in the evening. Veronique took care, then, that there was a good fire, and to bring forward a broken-legged table, on which was spread a serge apron by way of a tablecloth. Suzanne took out of the cupboard an old pack of cards, and Gabrielle brought a large leather purse, in which there were only some copper farthings. The Ravens were fond of playing at cards, it was an innocent amusement, which, when they were in luck, allowed them to win from Monsieur de Gréoulx a few sous. The young man very good naturedly joined their game, and Gabrielle, seated at a corner of the table where the lamp was, listened to him and looked at him, without, however, raising her eyes from her work.

Monsieur de Gréoulx was not long in feeling much attracted by these evenings; he found the games very amusing, and it was always with regret that he heard the clock at Saint Laurent strike the hour of nine. Gabrielle was so pretty, and whenever he came in she raised her large eyes modestly towards him with such a sweet expression. He had also, for the two old women, a feeling of gratitude and affection, which made him like their society; they possessed, in spite of their odd, and often vulgar manners, good common sense and real goodness of heart. Sometimes they made use of language superior to their education and station, and they expressed ideas which contrasted strangely with their parsimonious habits. They did not want either sense or humour; however, they never suspected that this handsome young man, this charming

young girl, who hardly ever spoke to each other, who often looked at each other, and who seemed so happy while they played at cards, could fall in love with each other. They never suspected it, because they had never had any experience of the passion of love, for no one had ever loved them.

Monsieur de Gréoulx gave himself up to this retired and peaceable life, without thinking of the past or the future. Never had he been so happy, for he was beginning to feel for the first time one of those passions which completely absorb the faculties of the soul, and through which all impressions of joy and grief pass. His grandfather had not replied to the letter which he had written, and his silence did not give him any uneasiness. This conduct on the part of the Baron de Gréoulx appeared as a proof to him that his independence was for ever obtained, and he did not regret the price at which he had bought it. The Ravens were more anxious than he, and at length he said to them:

"When I am certain that the baron has disinherited me, I shall form my own determination. I shall work, gentleman as I am, and assuredly I shall be happier than if I had married Mademoiselle de la Varrière."

One Sunday the Ravens were returning with Gabrielle from hearing vespers. It had been a magnificent day; the perfume of the air was like the fragrance of spring mixed with the salt smell of the seaweed and other marine plants. The three women slowly crossed the irregular square which extends between the Fort of Saint Jean and the Major. This walk is a broad terrace, supported by ramparts, at the bottom of which flows the sea. In calm weather the low murmur of the waves dashing against the reefs, and the voices of children assembled on the shore, may be heard. But when the wind is high the sea strikes furiously against these walls, and the foamy waves, white as the mountain snow, wash over the stones, worn by the briny air. The white sails of the fishermen's boats issue from the port as soon as the weather becomes fine, and furrow the wide harbour, at the end of which are situated many pretty country-seats, surrounded by pine-trees. A group of bare grey rocks forms an island opposite the port of Marseilles; on these rocks is built the Château d'If, an ancient state prison, more secure than the Bastille; its towers, studded with curious windows, may be seen from the shore, and close to the horizon the Planier lighthouse rises like a mast, and often its undefined form, suspended between the sky and the water, disappears altogether.

"Oh !" cried Gabrielle, leaning against the parapet, and casting her eyes over this magnificent scene, "how beautiful!"

"Yes, what fine weather for fishing," said Veronique; "fish will not be dear to-morrow."

The young girl sighed, and looked again at the sky, at the calm blue sea, and the setting sun, veiled by clouds.

66

Is that not Monsieur de Gréoulx whom I see down there, seated on the parapet?" asked Suzanne. "Look, my dear, my eyes may deceive

me."

Gabrielle trembled, and replied quickly :

Yes, it is the chevalier; he does not see us."

"What can he be thinking about? He is as still as a saint in a niche," said Veronique.

They approached the young man; on perceiving them he said: