“Monsieur d’Escorval agrees with me that we must trust ourselves to the Marquis de Sairmeuse. Only the baron, being innocent, cannot, will not, accept a pardon. He demands a revision of the iniquitous judgment which condemned him.”
Although she must have foreseen this determination, Marie-Anne seemed stupefied.
“What!” said she. “Monsieur d’Escorval will give himself up to his enemies? Does not the Marquis de Sairmeuse promise him a letter of license, a safe-conduct from the King?”
“Yes.”
She could find no objection, so in a submissive tone, she said:
“In this case, Monsieur, I must ask you for a rough draft of the letter I am to write to the marquis.”
The priest did not reply for a moment. It was evident that he felt some misgivings. At last, summoning all his courage, he said:
“It would be better not to write.”
“But——”
“It is not that I distrust the marquis, not by any means, but a letter is dangerous; it does not always reach the person to whom it is addressed. You must see Monsieur de Sairmeuse.”