Helene was about to throw herself at the duke's feet, so humbled was this proud spirit by the thought of Gaston's danger; but the regent received her in his arms. Helene trembled through her whole frame—there was something in the contact with this man which filled her with hope and joy. She remained leaning on his arm, and made no effort to raise herself.
"Mademoiselle," said the regent, watching her with an expression which would certainty have betrayed him if Helene had raised her eyes to his face, "Mademoiselle, the most pressing affair first—I have told you that Gaston is in danger, but not in immediate danger; let us then first think of yourself, whose position is both false and precarious. You are intrusted to my care, and I must, before all else, acquit myself worthily of this charge. Do you trust me, mademoiselle?"
"Oh, yes; Gaston brought me to you."
"Always Gaston," sighed the regent, in an undertone; then to Helene he said:
"You will reside in this house, which is unknown, and here you will be free. Your society will consist of excellent books, and my presence will not be wanting, if it be agreeable to you."
Helene made a movement as if to speak.
"Besides," continued the duke, "it will give you an opportunity to speak of the chevalier."
Helene blushed, and the regent continued:
"The church of the neighboring convent will be open to you, and should you have the slightest fear, such as you have already experienced, the convent itself might shelter you—the superior is a friend of mine."
"Ah, monsieur," said Helene, "you quite reassure me; I accept the house you offer me—and your great kindness to Gaston and myself will ever render your presence agreeable to me."