"If I die before I tell you all, dear Claude, you will see this, and will understand that I did my duty to your parents and to you—"
Here it ended abruptly. There was no name, and it was evidently unfinished.
CHAPTER VI. — A FRENCH FRIGATE.
Mimi read both papers through rapidly and breathlessly, and having finished them, she read them over once more. As she finished the second reading, Claude presented to her in silence a small package. She took it in the same silence. On opening it, she saw inside a miniature portrait of a lady—the same one which Claude had mentioned. She was young and exquisitely beautiful, with rich dark hair, that flowed luxuriantly around her head; soft hazel eyes, that rested with inexpressible sweetness upon the spectator; and a gentle, winning smile. This face produced an unwonted impression upon Mimi. Long and eagerly did she gaze upon it, and when, at length, she handed it back to Claude, her eyes were moist with tears.
Claude replaced the portrait in its wrapper, and then restored it, with the letters, to his pocket. For some time they sat in silence, and then Claude said,—
"You see there is no great duty laid on me. Judging by the tone of that letter, I should be doing my duty to my father if I did not go to France—and if I did not seek after anything."
"Ah! but how could you possibly live, and leave all this unexplained?"
"I could do it very easily," said Claude.