I found Marie and her aunt both in tears.
"What is the matter? What has happened?" I cried out.
"We have had a letter," said Madame Kerouët, "a letter from M. Duvallon; he says that he is coming here to-day to take away Marie, by order of M. Belmont."
"And you would allow her to go?" I exclaimed. "And you, Marie, would you consent to go?"
Marie, pale as death, passed her hands over her eyes and cried out: "What an awakening! Mon Dieu! what shall I do? I am lost."
I made an expressive sign to Marie. Her aunt, preoccupied by her own distress, had not heard her.
"Ah, mon Dieu!" said Madame Kerouët. "Give up my child! I never will have the strength to do it."
"You shall not give her up, you ought not, good mother! You must not give her up to such a man as Duvallon."
"Alas! monsieur, what objection can we make? Is not M. Duvallon the intimate friend of M. Belmont? Has he not received his orders?"
"It is just because he is the intimate friend of a man like Belmont that you must be on your guard against him."