“I cannot tell,” said the abbe, with a fixed and absent look. “This disclosure is a terrible blow to us.”
“Is all, then, lost?”
“There is only one means of safety,” said M. d’Aigrigny;—“the doctor.”
“But how?” cried the princess. “So, sudden? this very day?”
“Two hours hence, it will be too late; ere then, this infernal girl will have seen Marshal Simon’s daughters.”
“But—Frederick!—it is impossible! M. Baleinier will never consent. I ought to have been prepared before hand as we intended, after to-day’s examination.”
“No matter,” replied the abbe, quickly; “the doctor must try at any hazard.”
“But under what pretext?”
“I will try and find one.”
“Suppose you were to find a pretext, Frederick, and we could act immediately—nothing would be ready down there.”