M. de Brevan, now entirely master of himself, and calculating with his usual calmness, gravely shook his head, and said,—
“You ought to be careful, madam. To seek an asylum at the house of our friend’s relative might be a very grave imprudence.”
“But Daniel recommended it to me in his letter.”
“Yes; but he had not considered the consequences of the advice he gave you. Do not deceive yourself; the wrath of your enemies will be terrible when they find that you have escaped them. They will pursue you; they will employ the police; they will search for you all over France. Now, it is evident, that the very first place where they will look for you will be Daniel’s relatives. The house of the old aunt will be watched at once, and most jealously. How can you there escape from inquiry and pursuit? It would be folly to hope for safety there.”
Pensively Henrietta hung her head. Then she said,—
“Perhaps you are right, sir.”
“Now,” continued M. de Brevan, “let us see what they would do if they should discover you. You are not of age, consequently you are entirely dependent on the will of your father. Under the inspiration of your step-mother, he would attack Daniel’s aunt, on the score of having inveigled a minor, and would bring you back here.”
She seemed to reflect; then she said suddenly,—“I can implore the assistance of the Duchess of Champdoce.”
“Unfortunately, madam, they told you the truth. For a year now, the Duke of Champdoce and his wife have been travelling in Italy.”
A gesture of despair betrayed the terrible dejection of the poor girl.