"Give the enclosed to Florence, and rejoin me immediately. There is no hope. Let us depart at once."
Involuntarily Madame d'Infreville turned as if to comply with the request.
"Where are you going, Valentine?" cried Florence, hastily seizing her friend by the hand.
"Wait for me a moment," replied Madame d'Infreville, pressing her friend's hands convulsively, "wait for me, and read this."
Then giving the note to Florence, she darted away, while her friend, more and more astonished as she perceived that the writing was her husband's, read these lines:
"Concealed behind a clump of shrubbery, I have heard all. A vague hope brought me here, and I confess that, when I saw this hope blighted, my first thought was of revenge. But I renounce both the hope and the revenge. Be happy, Florence! I can feel for you henceforth only esteem and respect.
"My only regret is that I am unable to give you your entire liberty. The law prevents that, so you must resign yourself to bearing my name.
"Once more farewell, Florence; you will never see me again, but, from this day on, remember me as your most sincere and devoted friend,
A. DE LUCEVAL."
Madame de Luceval was deeply touched by this letter, which she had scarcely finished when she heard the sound of carriage wheels becoming fainter and fainter in the distance.