AN EPISODE OF JULY 1880. 91 



She tottered towards him a strange, unearthly smile played upon 

 her thin and trembling lips. 



" Pierre !" she cried ; " somebody said Pierre, I believe the dear 

 boy I loved so well ; where is he ?" 



She now recognized her grandson, and her shrivelled arms were 

 extended towards him ; but the Hero of July did not respond to the 

 movement he turned away his head and shed bitter tears ! 



" My poor Pierre," said the old dame, " hast thou forgotten me ? 

 I am thy old grandmother delighted to see thee ! thou art come to 

 protect us yes, I knew thou wouldst be with us in the hour of 

 danger !" 



The mother of the royal guardsman led her aged parent back to 

 her seat. 



" Whether he be Pierre or not/' she said, in a mysterious and 

 agonized tone, " do not interrogate him oh ! let him be silent ! 

 let him be silent !" 



Then she thus addressed the Conqueror of July : 



" You understand me and yet you remain in my presence ! 

 Pierre, THE CURSE is UPON MY LIPS it has not yet escaped them; 

 but, do not remain this is no place for you begone, Pierre be- 

 gone !" 



A deep groan now proceeded from the further end of the room ; 

 the royal guardsman gave signs of life ; he opened his eyes for an 

 instant they appeared to seek his brother. 



" Look ! your brother is dying," continued the distracted mother ; 

 " and from whom did he receive his death- wound? From you, per- 

 haps ; yes, you or your companions the guilt is the same ; the 

 blood with which you are stained is French blood : Cam, thou hast 

 slain thy brother!" 



" Daughter ! he weeps," said the old grandmother. 



" Weeps !" rejoined the mother, " were he to shed tears all his 

 life, they would never wash out the remembrance of his crime. O ! 

 most unnatural child ! you have turned your arms against the bene- 

 factors of your family : I will not curse you, for self-condemnation is 

 already depicted on your countenance; my malediction would be 

 superfluous." 



te Pardon ! pity him ! he repents," exclaimed the poor sisters, 

 both at once. 



(t Repents !" replied the distracted mother, " to what purpose ? 

 Can he recal the past?" 



The guardsman raised himself upon his elbow : " Forgive him, 

 mother, forgive him !" he said, in a voice of agony ; " Pierre, my 

 poor brother, God bless you !" 



The Hero of July darted towards the soldier caught him in his 

 arms looked on his face but met only the glazed stare of a corpse ! 

 Weak was the living ! heavy the dead ! -the brothers fell down 

 upon the bed together ! 



