Paris 1815

A baby cries out in the night.   A young mother clinging to life begs for help.  

    "Please! Anne.  You are her only chance. Promise me you will take her to the Bishop."

    "Milady, do not speak. The doctor is on his way," pleads the young maid.

    "I'm going to die Anne.  There is no saving me, but you can save my daughter.  Promise you will do this one last thing I ask of you."

    "Yes, milady.  I will see to it, I promise."

    "God be with her," she prays before succumbing to deaths call.

    The maid bundled the babe and placed her into the beautiful basket, prepared by her mother beforehand.  Granting her lady's one last request, she ventures out into the cold, rainy night alone,  carrying the large woven basket, praying the evil man doesn't see her.

    The man concealed by the dark of night, quietly watches as the maid makes her way down the filthy streets of Paris, holding the bundle tightly in her arms.  Realizing he was betrayed, he follows her, keeping close to the shadows so that no one observes his presence. He watches as she places the basket on the church steps, rings the bell, and runs back towards the way she came. He holds his breath as she passes, hoping she doesn't see him there.  So the babe lives, he muses. No matter, he sneers. No one will ever find her, he will make sure of that.  Undetected by the maid, the man smiles to himself and slowly strolls away whistling, knowing that one day everything will finally be his. The Countess is finally dead.