“Madame!”
“You do not doubt my word, M. Blangin, do you?”
“God forbid, madam! But it is not my place only. If I did what you want me to do, I should be severely punished.”
The marchioness judged from the jailer’s tone that Dionysia was not likely to prevail over him, and so she said,—
“Don’t insist, my child. Let us go back.”
“What? Without finding out what is going on behind these pitiless walls; without knowing even whether Jacques is dead or alive?”
There was evidently a great struggle going on in the jailer’s heart. All of a sudden he cast a rapid glance around, and then said, speaking very hurriedly,—
“I ought not to tell you—but never mind—I cannot let you go away without telling you that M. de Boiscoran is quite well.”
“Ah!”
“Yesterday, when they brought him here, he was, so to say, overcome. He threw himself upon his bed, and he remained there without stirring for over two hours. I think he must have been crying.”