Year: 1863




her mind in less time than we take to
write them. She decided at once what
she should do, which was, to send the
girl out of the room. .- .s


"You know that dish my husband
likes" said she without betraying her
alarm by the least change in the tones of
her voice. :" | ought to have remem moered
to have it got ready for his supper. Go
down stairs and see about it at once


"Does not madame require my help
here, as she generally does?"


No, no, | will attend to everything
myself. know my husband would not
be pleased, if he was to come home after
his ride, in such bad weather, and not
find good supper ready"
After some delays, which increased in
the lady's mind that suspicion she was
forced to conceal, the girl left the room.
The noise of her steps on the stairs died
away gradually, and Madame Aubry was
left alone with her child, with those two
feet, motionless at their post, still peep
ing out under the curtain She kept by
the fire. with her child on her lap, con-
tinuing to caress it and sing to it, almost
mechanically. The child cried: it wan
ted to be put to bed, but its cradle was
near the alcove-near those dreadful feet,
how could she find courage TO 60 near
them At last she made the effort.
, Come, my child, said she, and got up.


Hardly able to stand erect, she walked


toward the alcove, close to the robber, and


put the child in the cradle, singing it to
sleep as usual. We may imagine how


much she felt like singing. When the
child fell asleep, she resumed her seat by


the fire, She did not dare to leave the


room as it would arouse the suspicious of
the robber and of the girl, probably his
accomplice. Besides she could not bear the
thought of leaving her child, even if it


was to purchase her own safety. The
clock pointed to seven. An hour yet be-
fore her husband would come! Her eyes


were fixed on those feet, which threatened


her with death at any moment, with a
, sort of fascination. The deepest silence
, rcigned in the room. The infant sleep
ing quietly. We do not know whether
: even an Amazon. IN her place, would have
: been bold enough to try struggle with
} the robber. Madame Aubry had no arms,
| besides she made no claims to valor, but
only to that passive courage, founded on
r reflection, which is far the rarer of the
| two. Every few minutes, she would hear
) a noise in the garden. In that noise, a
ray of hope shone on her face for mo-
t ment-it was her husband, it was deliv-
! erance! But not was only the wind
r and rain, or the shutters creaking. What
. an age every minute seemed to be. Oh,
4 heavens the feet moved Does the
e thief mean to leave his hiding. place ?
/. No. 1t was only slight, probably in
r voluntary movement. to ease himself by
q changing his position.


e The clock strikes--only once. it is the
: half hour only-and the clock is too fast,
: besides! How much anguish, how many
r silent prayers in these trying minutes
t She took up a book of devotion and tried
d to read, but her eyes Doud wander from
y the page to fix on those heavy shoes All
8 at once thought arose that chilled her
e to the very heart Suppose her husband
Z should not come The weather is stormy,
y aud he had relatives in the village he went
n to. Perhaps they have persuaded him
e it was unsafe to travel at night with SO
large sum Of money about him; perhaps
n they have forced him, with friendly vio-
S lence to yield to their urgent invitations
IS to wait till morning. 1t is striking eight
It and nobody comes. The idea we have
n alluded to, appears'l 10 her more and more
l. probable. After two hours of such agony
/? the unhappy lady, whose courage has beer
n kept up by the hope of fual rescue, feels
> her strength and hope fail her. Soon shc
If hears noise under the window, and list
g. ems, doubtfully. This time she is moi
t. mistaken. The heavy outer-door creak'