Dolores sprang forward to raise her.
"Philip, do you forgive me?" entreated Antoinette.
He too was weeping. He extended his hand to the young girl, who took it and covered it with her tears.
"Spare me, spare me!" exclaimed Dolores. "You rend my soul now when I have need for all my strength. Your grief and despair at my fate lead you both beyond reality. You, my dear friend, my dear sister Antoinette, have received a sacred promise which you, Philip, made freely and with the intention to fulfil it. That is the only thing you must remember now."
She uttered these words in a sweet and penetrating voice, and with an energy that calmed and silenced both of them. She spoke of the chief duties of life, of the necessity of resignation, devotion and self-denial.
"I wish to carry with me to the grave," she added, "the assurance that you will console each other after my death by loving each other in remembrance of me."
And they promised all that she asked, for it was impossible to resist so much grace, so much eloquence and so much humility. Then she took from her pocket the order of release which Coursegol had obtained through Vauquelas. She handed this to Philip.
"There is your freedom," she resumed. "With the assistance of Bridoul, who will aid you in Coursegol's stead, this paper will enable you to escape from prison. You will be conducted to a safe retreat where you can await the fall of these wicked men and the triumph of truth and of virtue. That hour will surely come; for the future does not belong to the violent and audacious; it is for the meek, the generous, the good."
She conversed with them an hour longer, then begged them to leave her. She desired to prepare for death. Antoinette's sobs and Philip's despair increased in violence.