"Arrested? You also, my son?"
He pressed her to him, reassuring her.
"Oh, no! ... I am free! ... Be at peace, mother ... I have had permission to see you."
He then kissed Thérèse, who, still trembling, asked—
"Is it really true, you are free?"
Olivier again reassured them. Clarisse wished to find a secluded spot where they could talk undisturbed, and Thérèse having espied an empty bench under another acacia, they took possession of it.
Olivier now anxiously questioned his mother, wanting to know every detail of her arrest, but Clarisse interrupted him. He must first tell them about himself. Was he really safe? How did he get to Paris? Where was he staying? Olivier was obliged to answer, telling them his adventures as quickly as possible, that he might return to their arrest. When he had satisfied them, he asked breathlessly—
"And you? Tell me everything. I must know all."
Clarisse then told him of their arrest, departure, and halt at Montmorency; of the long drive to Paris, their arrival in the prison more dead than alive, and how they gained heart on learning it was one of the least cruel in Paris. She had been able to judge for herself when she awoke in the morning, and was so cordially received by her fellow-prisoners, men and women who, as she discovered on their introducing themselves, belonged to her world.
She then pointed out to Olivier among those taking their after-dinner promenade Madame de Narbonne, so gentle, so compassionate, and her little girl, such a darling child! then the Count and Countess de Lavergne; the Marquise de Choiseul, who had taken such kind and delicate interest in Thérèse at breakfast; the whole family de Malussie; the Count de Broglie; the Chevalier de Bar; the Maréchal de Mouchy and his lady, whom Clarisse had met in her youth at Versailles; Mademoiselle de Béthisy, and the Marquis d'Avaux.