"More calm, she is sleeping."

"Oh, she must live, she must live, Pierre! she will live, will she not?

she will live?"

"Henri, you love her."

Recalled to himself by these words of his friend, David trembled, remained silent, with his eyes fixed on the eyes of the doctor.

The latter answered, in a grave and sad tone:

"Henri, you love her. I have not surprised your secret. You have just revealed it yourself."

"I?"

"By your grief."

"It is true, I love her."

"Henri," cried the doctor, with tears in his eyes and with deep emotion, "Henri, I pity you, oh, I pity you."

"It is a love without hope, I know it; but let her live, and I will bless the torments that I must endure near her, because her son, who binds us for ever, will always be a link between her and me."

"Yes, your love is without hope, Henri; yes, delicacy will always prevent your ever letting Marie suspect your sentiments. But that is not all, and I repeat it to you, Henri, you are more to be pitied than you think."

"My G.o.d! Pierre, what do you mean?"

"Do you know? But wait, my blood boils, my indignation burns, everything in me revolts, because I cannot speak of such a base atrocity with calmness."

"Unhappy woman, it concerns her. Oh, speak, speak, I pray you. You crush me, you kill me!"

"Just now I was coming to join you."

"And some one stopped you in the pa.s.sage."

"It was Marguerite. Do you know where Madame Bastien spent a part of the night?"

"What do you mean?"

"She spent it out of her house."

"She? the night out of her house?"

"Yes, her husband thrust her outdoors, half naked, this bitter cold night."

David shuddered through his whole body, then pressing both hands to his forehead as if to restrain the violence of his thoughts, he said to the doctor, in a broken voice:

"Wait, Pierre; I have heard your words, but I do not understand their import. A cloud seems to be pa.s.sing over my mind."

"At first, neither did I understand it, my friend; it was too monstrous.

Marguerite, yesterday evening, a little while after leaving her mistress, heard a long conversation, sometimes in a low voice, sometimes with violence, in the library, then walking in the corridor; then the noise of a door which opened and shut, then nothing more. In the night, after the departure of M. Bastien, Marguerite, rung up by her mistress, thought at first Marie had fainted, but later, by certain indications, she had the proof that her mistress had been compelled to stay from midnight until three o'clock, in the porch, exposed to all the severity of this freezing night. So, this sickness, mortal perhaps--"

"But it is a murder!" cried David, mad with grief and rage. "That man is an a.s.sa.s.sin!"

"The wretch was drunk as Marguerite has told me; it was in consequence of an altercation with the unhappy woman that he thrust her outdoors."

"Pierre, this man will return presently; he has insulted me grossly twice; I intend to provoke him and kill him."

"Henri, keep calm."

"I wish to kill him."

"Listen to me."

"If he refuses to fight me, I will a.s.sa.s.sinate him and kill myself afterward. Marie shall be delivered from him."

"Henri, Henri! this is madness!"

"Oh, my G.o.d! she, she, treated in this way!" said David, in a heartrending voice. "To know that this angel of purity, this adorable mother and saint, is always at the mercy of this stupid and brutal man!

And do you not see that if she does not die this time, he will kill her some other time?"

"I believe it, Henri, and yet he need not have her in his power."

"And you are not willing that I--"

"Henri," cried the doctor, seizing his friend's hand with effusion, "Henri, n.o.ble and excellent heart, come to yourself, be what you have always been, full of generosity and courage,--yes, of courage, for it is necessary to have courage to accomplish a cruel sacrifice, but one indispensable to the salvation of Madame Bastien."

"A sacrifice for Marie's salvation! Oh, speak, speak!"

"Brave, n.o.ble heart, you are yourself again, and I was wrong to tell you that you were more to be pitied than you thought, for souls like yours live upon sacrifices and renunciations. Listen to me, Henri,--admitting that I can save Madame Bastien from the disease she has contracted to-night, a most dangerous inflammation of the lungs, this angelic woman ought not to remain in the power of this wretch."

"Go on, finish!"

"There is an honourable and lawful means of s.n.a.t.c.hing from this man the victim that he has tortured for seventeen years."

"And what is this means?"

"A legal separation."

"And how is it to be obtained?"

"The atrocious conduct of this man, during this night, is a serious charge of cruelty. Marguerite will testify to it; it will not be necessary to have more to obtain a separation, and besides, I myself will see the judges, and I will tell them, with all the ardour and indignation of an honest heart, the conduct of Bastien toward his wife since his marriage; I will tell them of Marie's angelic resignation, of her admirable devotion to her son, and above all, of the purity of her life."

"Stop, Pierre; a little while ago I spoke like a madman. To beastly wickedness, I responded with homicidal violence. You are right, Madame Bastien must be separated from her husband, that she may be free." And at this thought, David could not repress a thrill of hope. "Yes, let her be free, and then, being able to dispose of her son's future, and--"

"Henri," said the physician, interrupting his friend, "you must understand that to make this separation worthy and honourable on Marie's part, it is essential that you go away."

"I!" cried David, shocked at the words of the doctor, who continued, in a firm voice: