"Julie . . . Julie . . . pardon me . . . if I thus withdraw myself from you . . . but hearing of the illness of the king, and that he was abandoned by all . . . I went to him; I did not quit him for an instant, until his death." . . .
"Ah! I understand," cried the princess. "This terrible disease is contagious, and your devotion will perhaps cost you your life . . . will cost us, perhaps, our happiness!"
"No, no, reassure yourself, Julie . . . all hope is not yet lost. . . . Although suffering, I wanted to see you to relieve you of all anxiety, to tell you that my lawsuit is gained . . . and that no obstacle now opposes our happiness." . . .
"None . . . none but death, perhaps!" exclaimed the princess, in despair. "My God! . . . My God! . . . in what frightful apprehension am I obliged to live!"
"Calm yourself! . . . Madelaine Landry will try every day to bring news of me to Martha. . . . You see . . . I am not seriously sick, although I may become so" . . . said the Marquis, with a feeble voice.
"I cannot live in such anxiety," replied the princess. "I will flee with you . . . this very night."
"Julie . . . it is impossible . . . nothing is prepared for such a step. In the name of Heaven, listen! . . . Do not compromise our future by precipitation." . . .
"But I can see that you are suffering horribly; I will not leave you in such a state . . . it is impossible! Energy and courage will not fail me; where you have passed, I will pass. . . . Once away from here, I will go and put myself under the protection of the Judge of Solar; they will not dare to snatch me openly from the asylum I shall have chosen in the house of the Ambassador of Sardinia. But at least there . . . every day . . . every hour . . . I shall hear news from you."
"Once again, Julie . . . it is impossible!" said Létorière, hardly able to stand, and leaning against one of the pillars of Madame Egmont's tomb.
"And you believe," resumed Mlle. de Soissons, feelingly, "you believe that during five years I could have followed you step by step with all the solicitude of a mother . . . that I could have bravely struggled against the wishes of my family, to abandon you to-day, under I know not what pretext of propriety, suffering, almost dying. . . . No, no, this love is too pure and too holy to fear to show a bold front."