an old woman appeared, Pascal's mother. She flung her arms about him and adjured him to fly from his false bride, for his marriage would doom him to death. She even fell at the feet of her son and said that he should pass over her body rather than be married. Pascal turned to Marcel and said: "Love overpowers me! If I die, will you take care of my mother?"

Then the gallant soldier dispelled the gloom which had overshadowed the union of the loving pair. "I can do no more," he said; "your mother has conquered me. Franconnette is good, and pure, and true. I loved the maid, Pascal, and would have shed my blood for her, but she loved you instead of me.

"Know that she is not sold to the Evil One. In my despair I hired the sorcerer to frighten you with his mischievous tale, and chance did the rest. When we both demanded her, she confessed her love for you. It was more than I could bear, and I resolved that we should both die.

"But your mother has disarmed me; she reminds me of my own. Live, Pascal, for your wife and your mother! You need have no more fear of me. It is better that I should die the death of a soldier than with a crime upon my conscience."

Thus saying, he vanished from the crowd, who burst into cheers. The happy lovers fell into each other's arms. "And now," said Jasmin, in concluding his poem, "I must lay aside my pencil. I had colours for sorrow; I have none for such happiness as theirs!"