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"I am not afraid to die, Citizen Evremonde, but I have done

nothing. I am not unwilling to die, if the Republic which is to

do so much good to us poor, will profit by my death; but I do not

know how that can be, Citizen Evremonde. Such a poor weak little

creature!"

As the last thing on earth that his heart was to warm and soften

to, it warmed and softened to this pitiable girl.

"I heard you were released, Citizen Evremonde. I hoped it was

true?"

"It was. But, I was again taken and condemned."

"If I may ride with you, Citizen Evremonde, will you let me hold

your hand? I am not afraid, but I am little and weak, and it will

give me more courage."

As the patient eyes were lifted to his face, he saw a sudden

doubt in them, and then astonishment. He pressed the work-worn,

hunger-worn young fingers, and touched his lips.

"Are you dying for him?" she whispered.

"And his wife and child. Hush! Yes."

"O you will let me hold your brave hand, stranger?"

"Hush! Yes, my poor sister; to the last."

*****