“But listen, I have proof!” she cried eagerly.  “I have told you the truth.  You remember I had left the child with my notary to superintend her education.  He was false to me.  She had not died, but was disposed of to a woman known as the Screech-Owl, and——­”

“No!  No!  I do not believe you—­I do not wish to believe you!”

“See,” she continued, “here is her portrait.”

He seized the miniature.  Yes, in the child’s face were recognizable the blue eyes, the oval face, the fair hair, so familiar to him in Fleur-de-Marie.

“God!” he cried, “you wretched woman!  La Goualeuse our daughter!  Found, only to lose her again.  Dead!”

“No, she lives, Rudolph.  Pity!  I die!”

“Your child is dead, murdered.  May the knowledge curse your last moments!” And he rushed from the house, leaving Sarah in a fainting condition.

Meanwhile, the Marquise d’Harville, a friend of Rudolph’s, learned by chance of the presence of La Goualeuse in the house of the doctor who had rescued her from the Seine.  Knowing Rudolph’s keen interest in La Goualeuse, Madame d’Harville determined to take her with her in her carriage to convey the good news to Rudolph in person.

Some days later she appeared at Rudolph’s magnificent apartments and announced to him that Fleur-de-Marie was below in the carriage.  Rudolph rose, pale, supporting himself by the table.  Madame d’Harville’s surprise restrained him.

“Ah, Clemence,” he murmured, “you do not know what you have done for me.  Fleur-de-Marie is—­my daughter!”

“Your daughter, your Highness?”

Then suddenly she understood.  Fleur-de-Marie was brought up, and it required Clemence to restrain Rudolph so that he broke the news gently.  Fleur-de-Marie was even then overcome, for she had loved Rudolph as she would have loved her god.

Sarah died soon afterward.  Rudolph asked Clemence d’Harville to become mother to Marie, now the Princess Amelia, and they returned to Germany.  On setting out they passed in their carriage through a crowd attending an execution.  Several criminals in the crowd, recognising Rudolph, attempted to attack him.  Suddenly a man sprang forward in his defence, but was stabbed by one of the crowd and fell dying.  It was the Slasher.  “I could not go to Algiers,” he murmured.  “I wished to be near you, Monsieur Rudolph.”

A noble prince sought the hand of the Princess Amelia, but she, feeling her past degradation, retired to a convent, where she died, beloved by all, mourned deeply by Rudolph and Clemence.

Ferrand, the notary, died in convulsions, killing Brodamonte with a poisoned dagger.  Germain, restored to his mother, married happily, his wife’s dowry coming from the prince.

* * * * *

JONATHAN SWIFT

Gulliver’s Travels Into Several Remote Nations of the World