"Dame Petronille," Marguerite interposed anxiously, "that was not Denise's meaning.... Listen to me ... I pray you."
"Madam," dryly answered Maillart's wife, "I came here to warn you as a true friend of the thoughtless, no doubt, but nevertheless, dangerous rumors against Master Marcel's popularity. These rumors are at this very hour circulating in Paris.... So far from thanking me, I am received here with insult. The lesson is good. I shall profit by it."
"Dame Petronille—"
"Enough, Madam. Neither I nor my husband shall ever again set foot in your house. I meant, like a friend, to point out to you the danger that Master Marcel's good name is running. I have done my duty, let come what may!"
"Dame Petronille," Marguerite answered with sad but severe dignity, "since Marcel consecrated his life to public affairs, there is not a word or action of his that he cannot answer for with head erect. He has done good for good's sake, without even expecting anything from the gratitude of men. He will remain indifferent to their ingratitude. If ever his services are not appreciated, he will take with him into his retirement the consciousness of ever having acted like an honorable man. As to me, I shall bless the day when my husband should quit public affairs so that we may resume our obscure lives and ordinary occupations."
So obvious was the sincerity with which Marguerite expressed herself in speaking of her delight to return to obscurity, that Dame Petronille, furious at having been unable to wound the woman whom she envied, lost all control of herself. "You err," she declared, "in these days, it does not depend upon a man like Master Marcel to quietly bury himself in a retreat. No! No! When one has been the idol of Paris, you must either keep or lose the confidence of the people. If it is lost, you are looked upon as a traitor. And do you know what is dealt out to traitors? Death!"
"Can the enemies of Marcel have the audacity of pointing at him as a traitor?" cried Marguerite with tears in her eyes. "Do they aim at his life? Come, Dame Petronille, your silence upsets me."
Petronille was about to answer when the voice of Marcel was heard outside the chamber cheerfully announcing: "Marguerite! Denise! I have good news! Good news!" Dame Petronille remained silent, and stiffly bowing, rapidly took her departure without uttering a word.
CHAPTER V.
CHARLES THE WICKED.
Marcel entered. The radiant joy that suffused his face upon entering the house now made room for amazement at the silent and brusque departure of Maillart's wife, who swept by him at the door. He looked at Marguerite and Denise inquiringly, and noticing the disquietude and even alarm depicted on their faces by the odious calumnies of Petronille, he hastened to ask: "What is the matter, Marguerite? Why did our friend's wife leave in that strange manner?"