Then Father Rondic spoke. “Tell us, my boy, where this money is. Remember that it is Zénaïde’s dowry, that I have toiled day and night to lay it aside for her, feeling that with it I might make her happy. You did not think of all this, I am sure, and were led away by the temptation of the moment. But now that you have had time to reflect, you will tell us the truth. Remember, Jack, that I am old, that time may not be given me to replace this money. Ah, my good lad, speak!”
The poor man’s lips trembled. It must have been a hardened criminal who could have resisted such a touching appeal. Bélisaire was so moved that he made a series of the most extraordinary gestures. “Give him the money, Jack, I beg of you!” he whispered.
Alas! if the child had had the money, how gladly he would have placed it in the hands of old Rondic, but he could only say,—
“I have stolen nothing—I swear I have not!”
The superintendent rose from his chair impatiently. “We have had enough of this. Your heart must be of adamant to resist such an appeal as has been made to you. I shall send you up-stairs again, and give you until to-night to reflect. If you do not then make a full confession, I shall hand you over to the proper tribunal.”
The boy was then left all the long day in solitude. He tried to sleep, but the knowledge that every one thought him guilty, that his own shameful conduct had given ample reason for such a judgment, overwhelmed him with sorrow. How could he prove his innocence? By showing his mother’s letter. But if D’Argenton should know of it? No, he could not sacrifice his mother! What, then, should he do? And the boy lay on the straw bed, turning over in his bewildered brain the difficulties of his position. Around him went on the business of life; he heard the workmen come and go. It was evening, and he would be sent to prison. Suddenly he heard the stairs creak under a heavy tread, then the turning of the key, and Zénaïde entered hastily.
“Good heavens,” she cried, “how high up you are!”
She said this with a careless air, but she had wept so much that her eyes were red and inflamed, her hair was roughened and carelessly put up. The poor girl smiled at Jack. “I am ugly, am I not? I have no figure nor complexion. I have a big nose and small eyes; but two days ago I had a handsome dowry, and I cared but little if some of the malicious young girls said, ‘It is only for your money that Maugin wishes to marry you,’ as if I did not know this! He wanted my money, but I loved him! And now, Jack, all is changed. To-night he will come and say farewell, and I shall not complain. Only, Jack, before he comes, I thought I would have a little talk with you.”
Jack had hidden his face, and was crying. Zénaïde felt a ray of hope at this.
“You will give me back my money, Jack, will you not?” she added entreatingly.