"'I am almost positive that Frederick has never evinced any lack of confidence in his mother up to this time because he has had nothing to hide from her, but the more reprehensible the secret he is concealing from his mother is now at this present time, the more impenetrable he is likely to be.

"'But now the malady is known to us, what are the best means or the chances of a cure?

"'The first thing to be done is to discover the cause of Frederick's animosity. How is this discovery to be effected?

Frederick loves his mother devotedly, nevertheless he has remained deaf to her entreaties, so it is almost certain that he will never tell her his unhappy secret now, partly from a fear of forfeiting the respect of his friends, partly from a fear of imperilling his prospect of vengeance, the inevitable consequence of hatred when it is as energetic and intense as Frederick's seems to be.'"

Madame Bastien trembled violently as she read this prophecy which the scene she had lately witnessed in the forest verified but too well, and it was in a voice full of emotion she continued:

"'Consequently it seems almost certain that Madame Bastien must renounce all hope of gaining her son's confidence. That being the case, shall she resort to penetration, that compound of watchfulness, dissimulation, and trickery? for to ferret out a secret, at least a jealously guarded secret, one must employ all sorts of cunning expedients.

"'Can a woman like Madame Bastien play such a difficult role even if she desire to do so, a role which requires so much cool calculation and dissimulation?

"'No, the poor mother would blush and pale by turn, and in spite of her resolution she would hesitate at every step, even though she felt such a course might effect her son's salvation.'"

Madame Bastien's head drooped, two big tears rolled slowly down her cheeks, her hands fell inertly upon her knees, and she murmured, with a deep sigh:

"What he says is only too true. I recognise my utter powerlessness."

"Don't despair, I beseech you," cried the doctor, earnestly. "Do you suppose I would ever have brought you this letter, or that my friend would ever have written it, if he had not felt sure he had found a means of remedying this evil? Go on, I beg of you."

"'In my opinion,'" Marie continued, "'Frederick has reached an age when the most devoted and intelligent maternal tenderness will no longer suffice for his guidance.

"'Some knowledge of and experience in a man's life is needed to arm him against the many temptations of which a woman is entirely ignorant, and against which it is consequently well-nigh impossible for her to protect her son.

"'An intelligent and devoted father might accomplish this difficult task successfully, but as M. Bastien's business keeps him so much from home, Frederick needs a man of feeling, honour, integrity, and experience,--a man who understands the full importance of the task of fashioning a youth into a man.

"'Such a person, aided by the information Madame Bastien could give him, and, above all, by the influence she must still possess over her son, such a person could, I feel sure, by patient study and observation eventually discover Frederick's secret, and a.s.sist his mother in combating and finally destroying this animosity in the heart of this unfortunate youth, and then continue the education which Madame Bastien has so admirably begun.'"

"This is only too true," commented Madame Bastien. "I have felt the necessity of providing a tutor for my son for some time, as you know, my dear doctor. The tutor I engaged did not fulfil all my requirements by any means, but he was fairly competent, and endowed with an unusual amount of patience and amiability. Unfortunately, my son's irascibility of temper drove him away. Now, in the seclusion in which I live, and for the very limited amount of money my husband has consented to expend for this purpose, how can I hope to find such a tutor as your friend describes? Besides, how can I induce Frederick to accept a tutor in his present irritated state of mind? Besides, the more conscious a tutor is of his value, his devotion, and his dignity, the less inclined he will be to submit to my son's violence. Alas! you see I shall be obliged to renounce this means, valuable as I know it to be."

The young mother resumed her reading.

"'If Madame Bastien for any special reason does not desire to employ a tutor, there is another course which may not prove equally beneficial, but which will at least serve to divert his mind from the idea which seems to be dominating it,--that is for his mother to start with him on a long journey.'"

"I had made up my mind to do that very thing," said Marie. "This very evening I wrote to my husband informing him of my decision. I cannot be wrong this time, as I agree with your friend on this point, so--"

"Yes, but in my friend's opinion, as you will see if you read on a little further, this journey is only a palliative measure."

Madame Bastien read as follows:

"'I do not doubt the beneficial effects of such a journey on Frederick's mind, but unhappily it will only divert his mind from this unfortunate idea, not destroy it. A journey may, I repeat, serve to ameliorate Frederick's mental condition and enable his mother to gain time, a very important consideration, for I know there will necessarily be considerable difficulty in immediately finding a person capable of undertaking this mission. In fact, I am so conscious of the many difficulties that, if I thought my offer would be acceptable and above all seemly, I should be glad to offer myself to Madame Bastien as Frederick's tutor.'"

Marie's astonishment was so intense that she paused suddenly, and thinking she could not have read the letter aright, she read the line over again aloud in order to satisfy herself that her eyes had not played her false.

"'_I should be glad to offer myself to Madame Bastien as Frederick's tutor._'"

"Yes," said the doctor, "and if he says it he means it."

"Pardon me, doctor," stammered the young mother, overwhelmed with astonishment, "but the amazement this--this unexpected, incomprehensible offer causes me--"

"Incomprehensible, no. When you know the person who makes this offer better, you are the very person to understand and appreciate the feeling that prompted it."

"But without knowing me, doctor--"

"In the first place he does know you, for I admitted, did I not? that I had been very indiscreet; besides, would any other tutor that offered himself be any better acquainted with you?"

"But--but your friend has never been a tutor?"

"No; yet from his letter can you not see that he is a just, generous, and judicious person? As to his capabilities, I can vouch for them. But read on, please."

"'This proposition will doubtless astonish you, my dear friend, as I left you last evening for Nantes, from which place I was to embark for a long voyage. Moreover, I have never been a tutor, the modest fortune at my disposal preventing the necessity of following any regular avocation; last but not least, Madame Bastien does not know me, though I ask her to give me the greatest proof of confidence that it is in her power to grant, that is, to allow me to share the oversight of Frederick with her.

"'The first moment of surprise over, my friend, you will recollect that, though I have endeavoured to impart a useful aim to my travels, I adopted this roving life in the hope of finding distraction from the intense grief the loss of my poor brother caused me. Now after several hours of reflection, I am not only willing but anxious to attempt Frederick's cure. A very extraordinary desire this will doubtless appear to those who do not know me, but perfectly natural to those who do know me intimately.

Since Fernand's death all boys of his age inspire me with a profound interest; and since I have reflected long and carefully upon the seriousness of Frederick's mental condition and his mother's increasing anxiety, as well as the obstacles she must overcome in order to ensure her son's recovery, I think I have devised a way of effecting a cure. It seems to me, too, that I should be paying the greatest possible tribute of affection and respect to my poor Fernand's memory by doing for Frederick precisely what I had hoped to do for my own brother, and that this would not only be a wholesome distraction, but the only possible consolation in my grief.

"'Now you have heard my reasons I feel sure my decision will no longer astonish you; and if my offer is accepted I shall fulfil my duties conscientiously.

"'From what I know of Madame Bastien, I feel sure that she will understand my motives perfectly; so, on reflection, I think it would be advisable for you to show her this letter, though it was really written for your eye alone. You are in a position to answer any inquiries Madame Bastien may desire to make concerning me. You know me and my life; so say whatever you think you are justified in saying to satisfy Madame Bastien that I am worthy of her confidence.

"'Write me at Nantes. It is absolutely necessary that I should have an answer this day week, as the _Endymion_, on which I have engaged pa.s.sage, sails on the fourteenth, wind permitting; so desiring to give Madame Bastien the longest possible time for reflection, I seize this opportunity to write so my letter may reach you twenty-four hours earlier.

"'If my offer is refused I shall take my intended journey.

"'The diligence is about to start, so I must bid you a hasty farewell, my dear Pierre. I have only time to address this letter and a.s.sure you once more of my devoted affection.

"'HENRI DAVID.'"

CHAPTER XVIII.

As Madame Bastien returned the letter with a hand that trembled with emotion, Doctor Dufour said:

"One word, please. I do not know what your decision may be, but before you announce it I ought to give you some information about Henri David, so you may know all about him before you either accept or refuse his offer. Do you not think so?"

"No, my dear doctor, I do not," replied Madame Bastien, after a moment's reflection.

"What?"

"I shall be obliged to do one of two things, that is to say, I shall either have to accept or decline M. David's offer. If I accept it, a desire to know anything further in relation to him would show a distrust of him and of you. This letter is to my mind convincing proof of his high sense of honour and his generosity of heart. If, on the contrary, I cannot or should not accept M. David's offer, there would be a sort of indelicate curiosity on my part in encouraging your revelations concerning the past of a person who would remain a stranger to me, though the n.o.bility of his offer merits my eternal grat.i.tude."

"I thank you both on David's behalf and my own for the confidence you manifest in us, my dear Madame Bastien. Now reflect, and let me know your decision as soon as your mind is fully made up. In compliance with my friend's request, I lost no time in acquainting you with the contents of his letter, and that is why I came at this late hour of the night, even at the risk of disturbing you, instead of waiting until to-morrow, and--"

The doctor did not finish the sentence, for a shrill, spasmodic laugh resounded from Frederick's room, and made Madame Bastien spring from her seat.

Pale and terrified, she seized the lamp and ran into her son's room, followed by the doctor.