kisses in a sort of frenzy.

"Madame!" said an unknown man.

"Ah! it is not he!" she cried, recoiling in terror, and standing erect
before the recruit, at whom she gazed with a haggard eye.

"Holy Father! what a likeness!" said Brigitte.

There was silence for a moment. The recruit himself shuddered at the
aspect of Madame de Dey.

"Ah! monsieur," she said, leaning on Brigitte's husband, who had
entered the room, and feeling to its fullest extent an agony the fear
of which had already nearly killed her. "Monsieur, I cannot stay with
you longer. Allow my people to attend upon you."

She returned to her own room, half carried by Brigitte and her old
servant.

"Oh! madame," said Brigitte, as she undressed her mistress, "must that
man sleep in Monsieur Auguste's bed, and put on Monsieur Auguste's
slippers, and eat the pate I made for Monsieur Auguste? They may
guillotine me if I--"

"Brigitte!" cried Madame de Dey.

Brigitte was mute.

"Hush!" said her husband in her ear, "do you want to kill madame?"