“From him who, perhaps, had alone the right to grant it to me.”
“Has Morlaix then descended from heaven?” asked the marchioness, in a tone in which there was almost as much terror as irony.
“No, madam,” replied he, “but have you forgotten that he left a son upon this earth?”
“Then you have also seen him,” exclaimed the marchioness.
“Yes,” replied Achard.
“And you have told him all——”
“All!”
“And the papers which prove his birth?” asked the marchioness, with trembling anxiety.
“The marquis was not dead—the papers are still there.”
“Achard!” cried the marchioness, falling upon her knees, by the bedside. “Achard! you will take pity on me?”