Her hope remained firm, and she was sure that in spite of all obstacles everything would come out all right in the end. In fact, it was this feeling of certainty that gave her such an air of courage, of haughty rectitude, and of justice.
Hubert from time to time scolded her.
“You are over-doing, my dear; you are really growing pale. I hope at least that you sleep well at night.”
“Oh yes, father! Like a log! Never in my life did I feel better than now.”
But Hubertine, becoming anxious in her turn, proposed that they should take a little vacation, and said:
“If you would like it, my child, we will shut up the house, and we will go, all three of us, to Paris for a while.”
“Oh! mother mine, of what are you thinking? What would become of all our orders for work? You know I am never in better health than when closely occupied.”
In reality, Angelique simply awaited a miracle, some manifestation of the Invisible which would give her to Felicien. In addition to the fact that she had promised to do nothing, what need was there of her striving, since in the beyond some unknown power was always working for her? So, in her voluntary inaction, while feigning indifference, she was continually on the watch, listening to the voices of all that quivered around her, and to the little familiar sounds of this circle in which she lived and which would assuredly help her. Something must eventually come from necessity. As she leaned over her embroidery-frame, not far from the open window, she lost not a trembling of the leaves, not a murmur of the Chevrotte. The slightest sighs from the Cathedral came to her, magnified tenfold by the eagerness of her attention; she even heard the slippers of the beadle as he walked round the altar when putting out the tapers. Again at her side she felt the light touch of mysterious wings; she knew that she was aided by the unknown, and at times she even turned suddenly, thinking that a phantom had whispered in her ear the way of gaining the hoped-for victory. But days passed and no change came.
At night, that she need not break her word, Angelique at first did not go out upon the balcony, for fear of being tempted to rejoin Felicien, were she to see him below her. She remained quietly waiting in her chamber. Then, as the leaves even scarcely stirred, but seemed to sleep, she ventured out, and began to question the dark shadows as before.
From whence would the miracle come? Without doubt, in the Bishop’s garden would be seen a flaming hand, which would beckon to her to approach.