"More air--open the windows--" said the Baron, as he fell back upon the
mattress, exhausted by the efforts he had just made to talk.

Madame de Bergenheim obeyed his order with the precision of an automaton.
A fresh, pure breeze entered the room; when the curtains were raised,
floods of light illuminated the floor, and the old portraits, suddenly
lighted up, looked like ghosts who had left their graves to witness the
death agonies of the last of their descendants. Christian, refreshed by
the air which swept over his face, sat up again. He gazed with a
melancholy eye at the radiant sun and the green woods which lay stretched
out in front of the chateau.

"I lost my father on such a day as this," said he, as if talking to
himself--"all our family die during the beautiful weather--ah! do you
see that smoke over the Montigny rock?" he exclaimed, suddenly.

After opening the windows, Clemence stepped out upon the balcony.
Leaning upon the balustrade, she gazed at the deep, rapid river which
flowed at her feet. Her husband's voice calling her aroused her from
this gloomy contemplation. When she returned to Christian, his eyes were
flaming, a flush like that of fever had overspread his cheeks, and a
writhing, furious indignation was depicted upon his face. "Were you
looking at that smoke?" said he, angrily; "it is your lover's signal;
he is there--he is waiting to take you away--and I, your husband, forbid
you to go--you must not leave me--your place is here--close by me."

"Close by you," she repeated, not understanding what he said.

"Wait at least until I am dead," he continued, while his eyes flashed
more and more--"let my body get cold--when you are a widow you can do as