The countess half-opened the door; and immediately a feeble, and yet imperious voice was heard calling out,—
“Genevieve, I say, Genevieve!”
“I am coming, my dear, in a moment,” replied the countess.
“What security can you give me,” she said, in a hard and stern voice, after having closed the door again,—“what security do you give me, that if Jacques’s innocence were established, and he reinstated, you would not forget your promises?”
“Ah, madam! How or upon what do you want me to swear that I am ready to disappear. Choose your own securities, and I will do whatever you require.”
Then, sinking down on her knees, before the countess, she went on,—
“Here I am at your feet, madam, humble and suppliant,—I whom you accuse of a desire to insult you. Have pity on Jacques! Ah! if you loved him as much as I do, you would not hesitate.”
The countess raised her suddenly and quickly, and holding her hands in her own, looked at her for more than a minute without saying a word, but with heaving bosom and trembling lips. At last she asked in a voice which was so deeply affected, that it was hardly intelligible.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Induce Count Claudieuse to retract.”