"Oh, good father," exclaimed Rosen-Aër tenderly, "thanks to you, my son is saved!"
"Alack! Not so fast, poor woman! I told you before, to take him out of the cavern is possible; but after that the need will be to get out of this accursed convent.... Well, we shall try!" and he proceeded to write these last lines:
"Perhaps you can swim; no imprudence! The best swimmers get drowned. Reserve your strength so as to be able to help your mother to escape from this abbey. When you receive this parchment tear it up in little bits; the same with the first, throw them into the darkest corner of your prison because it is possible that you may be sent for and taken from there before evening."
"Oh, God!" exclaimed Rosen-Aër joining her hands in terror. "We never thought of that. Such a misfortune is possible."
"We must foresee every eventuality," replied the old man closing his letter with these words:
"Do not despair, and place your hope in Hesus, the God of our fathers!"
"Oh!" murmured Rosen-Aër in distress, "the faith of his fathers, the teachings of his family, the sufferings of his race, and the hatred for the stranger—he has forgotten it all!"
"But the sight of his mother will have brought all back again to him," answered the old man. Saying this he gave a pull to the string to notify Amael. The latter answered the signal in the same way. Bonaik then wrapped the file in the parchment and threw it to the other side of the moat. The aim was again accurate. The missive, together with the file, flew through the air-hole and dropped on the floor of the cavern. After having informed himself on these further instructions from the old man, Amael showed himself behind the bars. His eager eyes seemed to ask for his mother.
"He is looking for you," said Septimine to Rosen-Aër; "show yourself to him; do not deny him this consolation."
The Gallic matron sighed, and leaning upon Septimine took two steps towards the window. There, with a solemn and resigned mien, she raised a finger to heaven, as if to say to her son to trust the God of his fathers. At the sight of his mother and Septimine, the sweet image of whom had never left him since he first saw her at the convent of St. Saturnine, Amael joined his hands, and raised them above his head. His face indicated at once resignation, respect and happiness.