“Courage, sister, one effort more.”
“I cannot, Philippe; if she speaks to me, I shall die.”
“Then, you will be happier than I, for I cannot die.”
Andrée said no more, but went to the queen. She found her in her chair with closed eyes and clasped hands, seeming more dead than alive, except for the shudders which, shook her from time to time. Andrée waited tremblingly to hear her speak; but, after a minute, she rose slowly, and took from the table a paper, which she put into Andrée’s hands. Andrée opened it, and read:
“Andrée, you have saved me. My honor comes from you; my life belongs to you. In the name of this honor, which has cost you so dear, I swear to you that you may call me sister without blushing. This paper is the pledge of my gratitude, the dowry which I give you. Your heart is noble and will thank me for this gift.
Andrée looked at the queen, and saw tears falling from her eyes; she seemed expecting an answer, but Andrée, putting the letter in the fire, turned and left the room. Then Charny, who was waiting for her, took her hand, and they, each pale and silent, left the room. Two traveling-carriages were in the courtyard; Andrée got into one, and then said:
“Sir, I believe you go to Picardy.”
“Yes, madame.”
“And I to where my mother lies dead. Adieu, monsieur.”
Charny bowed, but did not reply, and Andrée drove off.