"I said, perhaps; let me try the means, it is the only one remaining."
"Go, my child," said Madame Denis, struck by the inspired tone of Bathilde's voice, "go, and may God guide you!"
Bathilde went out, descended the staircase with a slow but firm step, crossed the street, ascended the four stories without resting, opened the door of her room, which she had not entered since the day of the catastrophe. At the noise which she made, Nanette came out of the inner room, and gave a cry at seeing her young mistress.
"Well," asked Bathilde, in a grave tone, "what is it, my good Nanette?"
"Oh, mon Dieu!" cried the poor woman, trembling, "is that really you, or is it your shadow?"
"It is I, Nanette; I am not yet dead."
"And why have you left the Denis's house? Have they said anything to wound you?"
"No, Nanette, but I have something to do which is necessary—indispensable."
"You, go out in your present state! You will kill yourself. M. Buvat! M. Buvat! here is our young lady going out; come and tell her that it must not be."
Bathilde turned toward Buvat, with the intention of employing her ascendency over him, if he endeavored to stop her, but she saw him with so sorrowful a face that she did not doubt that he knew the fatal news. On his part, Buvat burst into tears on seeing her.