“Oh, yes!” answered Adrienne, bitterly; “those who employed the wretched girl to act as she did, well knew the effect of the blow. It was not their first attempt. They reduced you to despair, they would have killed you, because you were devoted to me, and because you had guessed their intentions. Oh! these black-gowns are implacable, and their power is great!” said Adrienne, shuddering.
“It is fearful, lady.”
“But do not be alarmed, dear child; you see, that the arms of the wicked have turned against themselves; for the moment I knew the cause of your flight, you became dearer to me than ever. From that time I made every exertion to find out where you were; after long efforts, it was only this morning that the person I had employed succeeded in discovering that you inhabited this house. Agricola was with me when I heard it, and instantly asked to accompany me.”
“Agricola!” said Mother Bunch, clasping her hands; “he came—”
“Yes, my child—be calm. Whilst I attended to you, he was busy with your poor sister. You will soon see him.”
“Alas, lady!” resumed the hunchback, in alarm. “He doubtless knows—”
“Your love! No, no; be satisfied. Only think of the happiness of again seeing your good and worthy brother.”
“Ah, lady! may he never know what caused me so much shame, that I was like to die of it. Thank God, he is not aware of it!”
“Then let us have no more sad thoughts, my child. Only remember, that this worthy brother came here in time to save us from everlasting regrets—and you from a great fault. Oh! I do not speak of the prejudices of the world, with regard to the right of every creature to return to heaven a life that has become too burdensome!—I only say that you ought not to have died, because those who love you, and whom you love, were still in need of your assistance.”
“I thought you happy; Agricola was married to the girl of his choice, who will, I am sure, make him happy. To whom could I be useful?”