Beyond the long island where the sea steals home."


At last the inner thought of it got into her heart, and then it was in
reply to Mme. Glozel, who asked her where her home was, she said: "In
Heaven, but I did not know it!" And thus it was, too, that at the very
last, when Jean Jacques followed the singing bird into her death-chamber,
she cried out, "Ah, my beautiful Jean Jacques!"

And because Jean Jacques knew that, at the last, she had been his, soul
and body, he went down from the mountain-side, the two black magpies
fluttering mournfully and yet hopefully behind him, with more warmth at
his heart than he had known for years. It never occurred to him that the
two elderly magpies would jointly or severally have given the rest of
their lives and their scant fortunes to have him with them either as
husband, or as one who honourably hires a home at so much a day.

Though Jean Jacques did not know this last fact, when he fared forth
again he left behind his canary with Mme. Glozel; also all Carmen's
clothes, except the dress she died in, he gave to Mme. Popincourt, on
condition that she did not wear them till he had gone. The dress in
which Carmen died he wrapped up carefully, with her few jewels and her
wedding-ring, and gave the parcel to Mme. Glozel to care for till he
should send for it or come again.

"The bird--take him on my birthday to sing at her grave," he said to Mme.
Glozel just before he went West. "It is in summer, my birthday, and you
shall hear how he will sing there," he added in a low voice at the very
door. Then he took out a ten-dollar bill, and would have given it to her
to do this thing for him; but she would have none of his money. She only