“You have made me pray, and believe as you do,” said the old man; “tell me, then, what more could a priest have done? What you have said is plain and grand—let me reflect on what you have said.”
“Listen!” said Paul, shuddering, “What is it?”
“Did you not hear?”
“No.”
“I thought that a voice of some one in distress called to me—there again—do you not hear it?—now, again!—It is the voice of Marguerite.”
“Go to her instantly,” replied the old man; “I need to be alone.”
Paul rushed into the adjoining room, and as he entered it he heard his name again repeated, and close to the door of the cottage. Then, running to the door he anxiously opened it, and found Marguerite upon the threshold, her strength having failed her, and she had fallen upon her knees.
“Save me! save me!” she cried, with an expression of profound terror, on perceiving Paul, and clasped his knees.