"'So long as it is dangerous for Gabriel to know that his father is living,—so long as the three all-powerful enemies who have slain my master shall be left in this world by God's wrath,—do you keep silent, Aloyse. Swear it to your dying husband.'
"Weeping, I swore it; and it is that sacred oath which I am now proving false to, Monseigneur, for your three foes, more powerful and more to be dreaded than ever, are still living. But you were about to die yourself; and if you make a wise and discreet use of my revelation, that which threatens to destroy you may be your father's salvation and yours. But tell me again, Monseigneur, that I have not committed an unpardonable sin, and that because of my good intentions, God and my dear Perrot will forgive my perjury."
"There is no perjury in all this, blessed creature," replied Gabriel; "and there has been throughout your conduct naught but heroic devotion. But tell me the rest! tell me the rest!"
"Perrot," continued Aloyse, "went on to say,—
"'When I shall be no more, dear wife, you will do wisely to close this house, dismiss the servants, and betake yourself to Montgommery with Gabriel and our child. And even at Montgommery don't live in the château, but in our little house; and bring up the heir of the noble counts, if not in absolute secrecy, still without any luxury or display, so that his friends may know him, and his enemies forget him. All our good people down yonder, both the intendant and the chaplain, will assist you in fulfilling the important duty which the Lord has put upon you. It would be much better that Gabriel himself until he is eighteen at least should be ignorant of the name he bears, but should know only that he is of gentle birth. You will see. Our worthy chaplain and Monsieur de Vimoutiers, the child's guardian, will assist you with their advice; but even from these loyal friends you must conceal the tale that I have told you. Confine yourself to saying that you fear that Gabriel may be in danger from his father's powerful enemies.'
"Perrot also gave me all manner of cautions, which he repeated in a thousand different forms until his suffering began again, accompanied by weakness which was no less grievous to look upon; and yet he employed every moment of comparative ease to cheer me up and comfort me.
"He also mentioned to me and made me promise one thing which required by no means the least display of energy on my part, I confess, and was not the least potent cause of suffering to me.
"'In Monsieur de Montmorency's mind,' said he, 'I am buried in the Cemetery of the Innocents; so I must have disappeared with the count. If any sign of my return here should be discovered, you would be lost, Aloyse, and Gabriel too, perhaps! But your arm is strong and your heart is brave. When you have closed my eyes, collect all the strength of your soul and body, wait till the middle of the night when everybody here is sound asleep after the labors of the day, and then take my body down into the old burial-vault of the lords of Brissac, to whom this hotel formerly belonged. No one ever enters that abandoned tomb; and you will find the key to it, all rusty, in the great clothes-press in the count's room. Thus I shall have consecrated burial; and although a simple squire may be unworthy to lie among so many great nobles, still after death we are all nothing but Christians, are we?'
"As my poor Perrot seemed to be growing weaken and insisted on having my word, I promised all that he asked. Toward evening he became delirious, and to that, frightful agony succeeded. I beat my breast in despair at my inability to relieve him; but he made a motion that it was of no avail.
"At last, burning up with fever, and racked by terrible agony, he said,—