“There he is!” said the young girl, rising to her feet.
But no: it was only the porter, bringing up a summons ordering Mme. Favoral, under penalty of the law, to appear the next day, at one o’clock precisely, before the examining judge, Barban d’Avranchel, at his office in the Palace of Justice.
The poor woman came near fainting.
“What can this judge want with me? It ought to be forbidden to call a wife to testify against her husband,” she said.
“M. de Tregars will tell you what to answer, mamma,” said Mlle. Gilberte.
Meantime, seven o’clock came, then eight, and still neither Maxence nor M. de Tregars had come.
Both mother and daughter were becoming anxious, when at last, a little before nine, they heard steps in the hall.
Marius de Tregars appeared almost immediately.
He was pale; and his face bore the trace of the crushing fatigues of the day, of the cares which oppressed him, of the reflections which had been suggested to his mind by the quarrel of which he had nearly been the victim a few moments since.
“Maxence is not here?” he asked at once.