"I am old, dear viscountess, and suspicious just because I am old,—not in this matter, for the princess's word is sacred. She has said that only one of the prisoners shall die; but, accustomed as I have become in the course of a long life to see fortune turn against the one who seems most secure of her favor, my rule is always to seize any opportunity that presents itself. See your fiancé, viscountess; take my advice and see him."
"Oh! Lenet, you terrify me beyond words; really you do!"
"I have no such intention; moreover, would you prefer that I advise you not to see him? You would not, would you? And you would scold me even more severely, I know, if I had said the opposite of what I do say."
"Yes, yes, I admit it. But you tell me to see him; that was my one desire; I was praying when you arrived that I might be allowed to see him. But isn't it impossible?"
"Is anything impossible to the woman who took Saint-Georges?" asked Lenet, with a smile.
"Alas!" said Claire, "for two hours I have been trying to think of some way of obtaining admission to the fortress, but I cannot."
"What would you give me if I were to show you a way?"
"I would give you—I would give you my hand on the day that I go to the altar with him."
"Thanks, my child," said Lenet; "indeed, you could do nothing more acceptable to me, for I love you like a father; thanks."
"Tell me the way! Tell me the way!" said Claire.