“I cannot tell you anything with certainty, Madame,” said the priest at last.  “I cannot—­”

“Then you do not know that he is dead!  Then there is, at any rate, some room for hope!” said she, not allowing him to finish what he was about to say; and she sank back in the chair, and relieved her overwrought mind with a flood of tears.

The priest was firmly convinced that de Lescure was at this moment numbered among the dead, and his conscience forbad him to relieve himself of his dreadful task, by allowing her to entertain a false hope; he had still, therefore, to say the words which he found it so difficult to utter.

He sat down beside Marie on the low step of the altar, immediately opposite to Madame de Lescure; he still had on him the vestments of his holy office, though they were much worn, shabby, and soiled, and the cap, which formed a part of the priest’s dress when officiating, was on his head; his shoes were so worn and tattered, that they were nearly falling from his feet, and the stockings, which displayed the shape of his huge legs, were so patched and darned with worsteds of different colours, as to have made them more fitting for a mountebank than a. priest.  At the present moment, there was no one likely to notice his costume; but had there been an observer there, it would have told him a tale, easy to be read, of the sufferings which had been endured by this brave and faithful servant of the King.

“When God, Madame de Lescure,” said he, speaking in a kind, peculiarly solemn tone of voice, “when God called upon you to be the wife of him who has been to you so affectionate a husband, He vouchsafed to you higher blessings, but at the same time imposed on you sterner duties than those which women in general are called upon to bear.  You have enjoyed the blessings, and if I know your character, you will not shrink from the duties.”

“I will shrink from nothing, Father Jerome,” said she.  “God’s will be done!  I will endeavour to bear the burden which His Providence lays on me; but I have all a woman’s weakness, and all a woman’s fears.”

“He who has given strength and courage to so many of His people in these afflicted days, will also give it to you; He will enable you to bear the weight of His hand, which in chastising, blesses us, which in punishing us here, will render us fit for unutterable joys hereafter.”  He paused a moment; but as neither of the women could now speak through their tears, he went on:  “I was close to your husband when he fell, and as his eyes closed on the battlefield, they rested on the blessed emblem of his redemption.”

“He is dead then!” said she, jumping from her chair, and struggling with the sobs which nearly choked her.  “Oh Sir, if you have the mercy which a man should feel for a wretched woman, tell me at least the truth,” and as she spoke, she threw herself on her knees before him.