leaving my dear grandmother’s remains, which I had undertaken to watch.”
“Valentine,” said Morrel, “death is in itself sacred.”
“Yes,” said Valentine; “besides, it will not be for long.”
She then crossed the corridor, and led the way down a narrow staircase to M. Noirtier’s room; Morrel followed her on tiptoe; at the door they found the old servant.
“Barrois,” said Valentine, “shut the door, and let no one come in.”
She passed first.
Noirtier, seated in his chair, and listening to every sound, was watching the door; he saw Valentine, and his eye brightened. There was something grave and solemn in the approach of the young girl which struck the old man, and immediately his bright eye began to interrogate.
“Dear grandfather,” said she hurriedly, “you