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〃Not yet。 I invite you to take a little walk with me first。 Come！〃 and she led the way slowly； looking back with infinite archness and tenderness。
〃You almost frighten me；〃 said Josephine； 〃it is not like you to be all joy when I am sad。 Three whole weeks more！〃
〃That is it。 Why are you sad？ because the doctor would not let you go to Frejus。 And why am I not sad？ because I had already thought of a way to let you see Edouard without going so far。〃
〃Rose！ O Rose！ O Rose！〃
〃This waycome！〃 and she smiled and beckoned with her finger； while Josephine followed like one under a spell； her bosom heaving； her eye glancing on every side； hoping some strange joy； yet scarce daring to hope。
Rose drew back the screen； and there was a sweet little berceau that had once been Josephine's own； and in it； sunk deep in snow…white lawn； was a sleeping child； that lay there looking as a rose might look could it fall upon new…fallen snow。
At sight of it Josephine uttered a little cry； not loud but deep ay； a cry to bring tears into the eye of the hearer； and she stood trembling from head to foot； her hands clasped； and her eye fascinated and fixed on the cradle。
〃My child under this roof！ What have you done？〃 but her eye； fascinated and fixed； never left the cradle。
〃I saw you languishing； dying； for want of him。〃
〃Oh； if anybody should come？〃 But her eye never stirred an inch from the cradle。
〃No； no； no！ the door is locked。 Jacintha watches below； there is no dan Ah； oh； poor sister！〃
For； as Rose was speaking； the young mother sprang silently upon her child。 You would have thought she was going to kill him； her head reared itself again and again like a crested snake's； and again and again and again and again plunged down upon the child； and she kissed his little body from head to foot with soft violence； and murmured； through her streaming tears； 〃My child！ my darling！ my angel！ oh； my poor boy！ my child！ my child！〃
I will ask my female readers of every degree to tell their brothers and husbands all the young noble did： how she sat on the floor； and had her child on her bosom； how she smiled over it through her tears； how she purred over it； how she； the stately one； lisped and prattled over it； and how life came pouring into her heart from it。
Before she had had it in her arms five minutes； her pale cheek was as red as a rose； and her eyes brighter than diamonds。
〃Bless you； Rose！ bless you！ bless you！ in one moment you have made me forget all I ever suffered in my life。〃
〃There is a cold draught；〃 cried she presently； with maternal anxiety； 〃close the panel； Rose。〃
〃No； dear； or I could not call to Jacintha； or she to me； but I will shift the screen round between him and the draught。 There； now； come to his aunta darling！〃
Then Rose sat on the floor too； and Josephine put her boy on aunt's lap； and took a distant view of him。 But she could not bear so vast a separation long。 She must have him to her bosom again。
Presently my lord； finding himself hugged； opened his eyes； and； as a natural consequence； his mouth。
〃Oh； that will never do；〃 cried Rose； and they put him back in the cradle with all expedition； and began to rock it。 Young master was not to be altogether appeased even by that。 So Rose began singing an old…fashioned Breton chant or lullaby。
Josephine sang with her； and； singing； watched with a smile her boy drop off by degrees to sleep under the gentle motion and the lulling song。 They sang and rocked till the lids came creeping down； and hid the great blue eyes； but still they sang and rocked； lulling the boy； and gladdening their own hearts； for the quaint old Breton ditty was tunable as the lark that carols over the green wheat in April； and the words so simple and motherly； that a nation had taken them to heart。 Such songs bind ages together and make the lofty and the low akin by the great ties of music and the heart。 Many a Breton peasant's bosom in the olden time had gushed over her sleeping boy as the young dame's of Beaurepaire gushed nowin this quaint； tuneful lullaby。
Now； as they kneeled over the cradle； one on each side； and rocked it； and sang that ancient chant； Josephine； who was opposite the screen； happening to raise her eyes； saw a strange thing。
There was the face of a man set close against the side of the screen； and peeping and peering out of the gloom。 The light of her candle fell full on this face； it glared at her； set pale； wonder… struck； and vivid in the surrounding gloom。
Horror！ It was her husband's face。
At first she was quite stupefied； and looked at it with soul and senses benumbed。 Then she trembled； and put her hand to her eyes； for she thought it a phantom or a delusion of the mind。 No： there it glared still。 Then she trembled violently； and held out her left hand； the fingers working convulsively； to Rose； who was still singing。
But； at the same moment； the mouth of this face suddenly opened in a long…drawn breath。 At this； Josephine uttered a violent shriek； and sprang to her feet； with her right hand quivering and pointing at that pale face set in the dark。
Rose started up； and； wheeling her head round； saw Raynal's gloomy face looking over her shoulder。 She fell screaming upon her knees； and； almost out of her senses； began to pray wildly and piteously for mercy。
Josephine uttered one more cry； but this was the faint cry of nature； sinking under the shock of terror。 She swooned dead away； and fell senseless on the floor ere Raynal could debarrass himself of the screen； and get to her。
This； then； was the scene that met Edouard's eyes。 His affianced bride on her knees； white as a ghost； trembling； and screaming； rather than crying； for mercy。 And Raynal standing over his wife； showing by the working of his iron features that he doubted whether she was worthy he should raise her。
One would have thought nothing could add to the terror of this scene。 Yet it was added to。 The baroness rang her bell violently in the room below。 She had heard Josephine's scream and fall。
At the ringing of this shrill bell Rose shuddered like a maniac； and grovelled on her knees to Raynal； and seized his very knees and implored him to show some pity。
〃O sir！ kill us！ we are culpable〃
Dring！ dring！ dring！ dring！ dring！ pealed the baroness's bell again。
〃But do not tell our mother。 Oh； if you are a man！ do not！ do not！ Show us some pity。 We are but women。 Mercy！ mercy！ mercy！〃
〃Speak out then；〃 groaned Raynal。 〃What does this mean？ Why has my wife swooned at sight of me？whose is this child？〃
〃Whose？〃 stammered Rose。 Till he said that； she never thought there COULD be a doubt whose child。
Dring！ dring！ dring！ dring！ dring！
〃Oh； my God！〃 cried the poor girl； and her scared eyes glanced every way like some wild creature looking for a hole； however small； to escape by。
Edouard； seeing her hesitation； came down on her other side。 〃Whose is the child； Rose？〃 said he sternly。
〃You； too？ Why were we born？ mercy！ oh！ pray let me go to my sister。〃
Dring！ dring！ dring！ dring！ dring！ went the terrible bell。
The men were excited to fury by Rose's hesitation； they each seized an