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 at a great pace when I heard a shot. That did not frighten me in the least; it seemed but natural that there should be some gun fired during a battue. But when I got through the thicket, that is to say, some two minutes later, I found Edmée—excuse me, I generally call her by this name; I am, so to speak, a sort of foster-father to her—I found Edmée on her knees upon the ground, wounded as you have been told, and still holding the bridle of her horse, which was rearing. She did not know whether she was seriously or slightly wounded, but she had her other hand to her breast, and she was saying:

Bernard, this is hideous! I should never have thought that you would kill me. Bernard, where are you? Come and see me die. This will kill father!'

"As she said this she let go the horse's bridle and fell to the ground. I rushed towards her.

Ah, you saw it, Patience?' she said. 'Do not speak about it; do not tell my father '

"She threw out her arms, and her body became rigid. I thought that she was dead. She spoke no more until night, after they had extracted the bullets from her breast."

"Did you then see Bernard de Mauprat?"

"I saw him on the spot where the deed was done, just as Edmée lost consciousness and seemed to be giving up her soul; he seemed to be out of his mind. I thought that he was overwhelmed with remorse. I spoke to him sternly, and treated him as a murderer. He made no reply, but sat down on the ground by his cousin's side. He remained there in a dazed condition, even a long time after they had taken her away. No one thought of accusing him. The people thought that