"I am going to write this letter now for my uncle," said Antonine, approaching a desk in the parlour. "But, say, Sophie," added the young girl, impulsively, "ought I not to bless Madeleine and thank her on both knees? For if the prince intended to oppose my marriage with Frantz, he would not come to see my uncle,--do you think he would, Sophie? And but for Madeleine, the prince would never have consented to come, would he?"

"Like you, my child, I say that we ought to bless our dear Madeleine,"

replied Madame Dutertre, pressing the hand of the marquise. "But really, I repeat it again and again, Madeleine, you have a talisman for getting all you want."

"Alas, dear Sophie!" replied the marquise, smiling, "this talisman, if indeed I have one, only serves others; not myself."

While the two friends conversed Antonine had seated herself at the desk, but, at the end of a few moments' vain effort, she was obliged to give up writing; her little hand trembled so violently that she could not hold her pen.

"Let me take your place, my dear child," said Madeleine, who had not taken her eyes off the young girl. "I will write for you."

"Excuse me, Madeleine," said Antonine, yielding her place to the marquise. "It is not my fault, this excitement is too much for me."

"It is the fault of your heart, poor little thing. I understand your emotion," writing President Hubert's reply with a firm hand. "Now,"

added she, "ring for some one, Antonine, so that this letter can be delivered to the officer of the prince without delay."

The old servant entered, and was instructed to deliver the letter to the officer.

"Now, my little Antonine," said the marquise to the young girl, "there remains one duty to be fulfilled, and I am certain that Sophie will be of my opinion; before the arrival of the prince, you must confess all to your uncle."

"What Madeleine says is very right," replied Sophie. "It would have a bad effect if your uncle should not be prepared for the probable intention of the visit of the prince."

"Your uncle is very kind and considerate, my dear Antonine," added Madeleine, "and he will forgive a lack of confidence, caused princ.i.p.ally, I do not doubt, by your timidity."

"You are right, both of you, I know it," said Antonine, "and, besides, I ought not to blush at this confession, for, my G.o.d, I loved Frantz without thinking of it, and in spite of myself."

"That is why you should hasten to confide in your uncle, my child, for the prince will not delay his visit. But tell me," added the marquise, "because, for reasons of my own, I do not wish to be found here when the prince arrives, can I not enter your chamber from this parlour?"

"The corridor into which this door opens," replied Antonine, "leads to my chamber; Sophie knows the way."

"Certainly, I will conduct you, Madeleine," replied Sophie, rising with the marquise, who, kissing Antonine tenderly on the forehead, said to her as she pointed to the door of her uncle's chamber, "Go quick, my dear little one, the moments are precious."

The young girl threw a glance of affectionate grat.i.tude on the two friends, who, leaving the parlour, followed the corridor on their way to Antonine's chamber, when they saw the old servant coming.

He approached and said to Sophie:

"Madame, M. Dutertre wishes to speak to you this moment."

"My husband! where is he?"

"Below, madame, in a carriage at the door; he told the porter to order me to ask you to come down without delay."

"That is strange! Why did he not come up?" said Sophie, looking at her friend.

"M. Dutertre has something to say to you, madame," said Peter.

Madame Dutertre, not a little disquieted, followed him, as she said to the marquise,--

"I shall return immediately, my friend, for I am eager to know the result of the prince's visit to M. Hubert."

Madeleine was left alone.

"I did well to hurry," thought she, with a sort of bitterness. "I did well to yield to my first instinct of generosity; to-morrow it would have been too late. I would not, perhaps, have had the courage to sacrifice myself to Antonine. How strange it is! An hour ago, in thinking of Frantz and her, I had not a feeling of jealousy or pain, and only a sweet melancholy, but now by degrees my heart is contracted and filled with sorrow, and this moment I suffer--oh, yes, how I suffer!"

The abrupt entrance of Sophie interrupted the reflections of the marquise, and she guessed that some great misfortune had happened by the frightened, almost wild, expression of Madame Dutertre, who said to her, in a short, panting voice:

"Madeleine, you have offered me aid, and now I accept it!"

"Great G.o.d! Sophie, what is the matter?"

"Our condition is desperate."

"Do explain."

"To-morrow, this evening, perhaps, Charles will be arrested."

"Your husband?"

"Arrested, I say; oh, my G.o.d!"

"But what for? What is it?"

"That monster of wickedness, whom we thought our benefactor, M. Pascal, has--"

"M. Pascal!"

"Yes, yesterday--I did not dare--I have not told you all, but--"

"M. Pascal!" interrupted Madeleine.

"Our fate is in the hands of that pitiless man; he can, and he wishes to reduce us to the last degree of misery. My G.o.d! what will become of us?

What will become of our children and the father of my husband? What will become of us all? Oh, it is horrible! It is horrible!"

"M. Pascal!" said the marquise, with restrained indignation, "the wretch! Oh, yes, I read it in his face; I have seen his insolence and meanness--such a man would be without pity."

"You are acquainted with him?"

"This morning I met him at the palace with the prince. Ah, now I regret having yielded to the anger, the contempt, which this man inspired in me. Why did you not tell me sooner? It is a great misfortune that you did not, Sophie, a great misfortune."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, no matter. There is no use in going back to the past. But let us see, Sophie, my friend, do not allow yourself to despond, exaggerate nothing and tell me all, and we will find some way of escaping the blow which threatens you."

"It is impossible; all that I come to ask in the name of Charles, in the name of my children, is that--"

"Let me interrupt you. Why do you say it is impossible to prevent this disaster?"