"My devotions! Nonsense!" laughed Canolles. "I will think of that to-morrow. I pray only in the morning."
The officer stared at Canolles in open-mouthed astonishment, which gradually changed to profound compassion. He bowed and left the room.
"Damnation!" said Canolles, "why, every one is crazy! Since poor Richon's death everybody I meet has the aspect of an idiot or a madman. Sarpejeu! shall I never see a sensible face again?"
The words were hardly out of his mouth when the door opened once more, and before he had time to see who had opened it, some one threw herself into his arms, and winding her arms around his neck deluged his face with tears.
"God's mercy!" cried the prisoner, extricating himself from the embrace; "another lunatic! Upon my soul, I believe I am in an asylum!"
But the gesture that he made in stepping back knocked the new-comer's hat to the floor, and the lovely blond tresses of Madame de Cambes fell down about her shoulders.
"You here!" he cried, rushing to her, and taking her in his arms once more. "You! oh! forgive me for not recognizing you, or rather for not divining your presence."
"Hush!" said she, picking up her hat and hastily replacing it on her head; "hush! for if they knew it was I, perhaps they would turn me out. At last I am permitted to see you once more! Oh, mon Dieu! mon Dieu! how happy I am!"
Her bosom heaved, and she sobbed as if her heart would break.
"Once more!" said Canolles; "you are permitted to see me once more, you say? In Heaven's name, are you not to see me more than this once?" he added, with a laugh.