"Well?" said Bertrande, pale, and gasping with emotion.

"I learned that the wounded man had his leg taken off, and, as the
surgeon predicted, he must have died in a few hours, for he was never
seen again."

Bertrande remained a few moments as if annihilated by this appalling
revelation; then, endeavoring to repel the horrible thought--

"No," she cried, "no, it is impossible! It is a lie intended to ruin
him-to ruin us all."

"What! you do not believe me?"

"No, never, never!"

"Say rather you pretend to disbelieve me: the truth has pierced your
heart, but you wish to deny it. Think, however, of the danger to your
immortal soul."

"Silence, wretched man!... No, God would not send me so terrible a
trial. What proof can you show of the truth of your words?"

"The witnesses I have mentioned."

"Nothing more?"

"No, not as yet."