"There is a very simple method of ridding yourself of these agonies.... I proposed the method to you.... I am ready to apply it."
"Take care! No violence upon him! Your life answers to me for his!"
"I do not know what to decide upon.... One moment I wish him to undergo a thousand deaths ... the next I am ready to fall at his knees, and ask pardon.... I am out of my mind ... out of my mind with love!" And the abbess wrung her hands, bit into the cushions of the lounge, and tore them with her nails in savage fury. Suddenly rising, her eyes wet with tears and glistening with passion, she cried: "Give me the key of Berthoald's prison!"
"It is on this bunch," answered the intendant pointing to several keys that hung from his belt.
"Give me that one quick!"
"Here it is," said the intendant, detaching a large iron key from the bunch. Meroflede took the key, contemplated it in silence, and fell into a revery.
"Madam," said Ricarik, "I shall order the messenger in waiting to depart with your letter to the Bishop of Nantes."
"Go.... Go.... Take the letter and return!"
"I shall also take a look at the old goldsmith's shop.... He is to cast the large silver vase to-day!"