"In my carriage."
But for the intervention of Murphy, who threw himself before Rodolph with the quickness of lightning, the latter would have rushed to the vehicle.
"Would you kill her, my lord?" exclaimed the squire, forcibly retaining the prince.
"She was merely pronounced convalescent yesterday," added Clémence; "therefore, as you value her safety, do not venture to try the poor girl's strength too far."
"You are right," said Rodolph, scarcely able to restrain himself sufficiently to follow this prudent advice, "you are quite right. Yes, I will be calm,—I will not see her at present; I will wait until her first emotions have subsided. Oh, 'tis too much to endure in so short a space of time!" Then addressing Madame d'Harville, he said, in an agitated tone, while he extended to her his hand, "I feel that I am pardoned, and that you are the angel of forgiveness who brings me the glad tidings of my remission."
"Nay, my lord, we do but mutually requite our several obligations. You preserved to me my father, and Heaven permits me to restore your daughter at a time you bewailed her as lost. But I, too, must beg to be excused for the weakness which resists all my endeavours to control it; the sudden and unexpected news you have communicated to me has quite overcome me, and I confess I should not have sufficient command over myself to go in quest of Fleur-de-Marie,—my emotion would terrify her."
"And by what means was she preserved?" exclaimed Rodolph; "and whose hand snatched her from death? I am most ungrateful not to have put these questions to you earlier."
"She was rescued from drowning by a courageous female, who snatched her from a watery grave just as she was sinking."
"Do you know who this female was?"
"I do; and to-morrow she will be at my house."