"Ah, well, mother, those farewells at night, you remember?—it was not a dream."
"Why, did you really come to me that dreadful night?"
"Yes, to bid you farewell."
"My God! and where were you going?"
"I was going to kill myself."
Marie uttered a shriek of fright, and turned pale.
"Frederick," said David, "you see what imprudence—"
"No, no, M. David," interrupted the young woman, trying to smile. "It is I who am absurdly weak. Have I not my son here in my arms, on my heart?"
As she said these words, Marie pressed her son in her arms, as they sat together on the sofa; then kissing him on the forehead, she added, in a trembling voice:
"Oh, I have you in my arms. Now I have no more fear, I can hear all."