Of a verity, the following Thermidor or hot July saw the fate come true. Universally execrated, the Tyrant was himself dragged down and guillotined. Fell with him the rest of the murdering crew. Black hatred––foul suspicion––wicked vengeance vanished like departing plagues.
There dawned happier days wherein justice bore sway, and little gardens of flowers and love and happiness again sprang up and flourished. Among these blooming gardens let us seek the refuge of Count and Countess de Linieres after the Storm has abated and the kinsfolk it has sundered are united. The sisters of our story are their especial care, daughter and foster-daughter of the exquisite chatelaine.
Young Maurice de Vaudrey is their pride. The old gentleman has reconciled himself to the passing of the Ancient Regime, and through his nephew’s good office has made his peace with the State.
On a bright and beautiful day as Henriette is flitting about the garden, the Doctor––none other than our old friend of La Force––comes with a precious gift.
“The removal of the cataract has been successful,” he says, presenting Louise. “Is it not a joy that she can see?”
The girls intertwine arms and laugh happily. The parents approach. Henriette and Louise embrace the Count, now their foster parent and protector. Back of the Count limps the devoted Pierre, now fully restored from his old hurt of the bayonet 193 thrust. Pierre is to be the Countess’s especial care.
That lovely lady has received her daughter Louise within her arms, a daughter who for the first time can look upon the mother of whose loving care she was deprived for a score of years. In a few moments Henriette summons her sister to her side as a young man, whom we should all recognize, joins the little company.
“Allow me to present to your new eyes Monsieur Maurice de Vaudrey––” then with a shy smile and a glance back and forth, Henriette adds:
“Do you approve of him?”