The same tempest, same agony, same dread of awaking the pitiless giant, who, on this occasion at least, slept soundly.

Bertrand, as a further precaution, took Etienne in his arms and carried him through the duke's room, intending to give some excuse as to the state of the duchess if the duke awoke and detected him.

Etienne's heart was horribly wrung by the same fears which filled the minds of these faithful servants; but this emotion prepared him, in a measure, for the sight that met his eyes in that signorial room, which he had never re-entered since the fatal day when, as a child, the paternal curse had driven him from it.
On the great bed, where happiness never came, he looked for his beloved, and scarcely found her, so emaciated was she.

White as her own laces, with scarcely a breath left, she gathered up all her strength to clasp Etienne's hand, and to give him her whole soul, as heretofore, in a look.

Chaverny had bequeathed to her all his life in a last farewell.
Beauvouloir and Bertrand, the mother and the sleeping duke were all once more assembled.