The baron had read so far with much interest, but calmly and quietly enough. As he went on reading, however, he became more excited, and at last started up with an exclamation of mingled pleasure and surprise. He was about to quit the apartment, when an orderly came in and informed him that a young person was without and desired urgently to speak with him: "Who is it?" said he. "I am particularly engaged just now." Whilst he was still speaking a female entered the room, and the orderly, after a moment's hesitation, retired and left them alone.
"Who are you, and what do you want?" inquired the commandant sharply. "I cannot attend to you now."
But instead of making any reply the intruder flung herself on her knees before him, sobbing convulsively and evidently in great agitation; then as she raised her head the baron stepped back, exclaiming, "Is it possible! Surely it is Marguerite?"
"Yes, it is I," said she, clasping her hands, and looking up to him with streaming eyes. "I cannot bear it longer. Since I left this place I have had no peace. How could I, knowing as I did that I had left one who had risked all for me, to suffer such a dreadful fate? I could not have been so wicked, but for the hope, stronger than all, of again seeing one I loved so dearly; but I have been rightly punished. Alas! I shall never see him more; but even if it were not so, I could not endure the terrible remorse that my selfishness has caused me. You who have been so kind and noble-hearted will help me to bear my lot. I have come to give myself up; you will not—you may not refuse me."
He raised her up and embraced her tenderly, but for a minute or two he could not speak for emotion. "My dear, dear child," said he at length, "you have indeed shown yourself the worthy daughter of a most noble father, and Heaven will reward you for this high-minded and generous act. Nay, I rejoice to say that it has already found its reward. Listen to this," and then, as she stood wondering before him, he read to her the concluding part of Montcalm's letter, which ran thus:
"With regard to a more private matter, I rejoice most heartily that my efforts have at last been attended with success. If it has not already reached you, you will shortly receive from Paris an order cancelling the lettre de cachet under which your prisoners Godefroid and Gabrielle have been detained. I can sympathise with you in the pleasure this will give you as regards the latter; as to the supposed Godefroid of course it matters little beyond the fact that the real object of our solicitude, wherever he may be, is released from the terrible ban involved in the now cancelled warrant. Although many months have elapsed without his making his appearance, I cannot but hope that he is safe, as I may now mention to you in confidence that I sent him, accompanied by the guide Boulanger, to Fort Duquesne in the autumn, and under the peculiar circumstances many things might occur to prolong his absence."
Well might Isidore's young wife fall once more upon her knees to pour out her grateful heart in thanksgiving for tidings which changed her sorrow and despair into joy and hope. Her guardian left her thus engaged whilst he sought out Amoahmeh and communicated to her not only the news of her freedom, but that which seemed to touch her far more deeply, Marguerite's surrender of herself for the purpose of setting her deliverer free.
The two friends were soon locked in each other's arms, and the baron leaving them together went forth to make the needful arrangements for relinquishing his post and proceeding with them to Quebec.
