A new incident came to deepen the sad and painful character of this scene.
CHAPTER XI.
DISCOVERIES.
The door which Agricola had not thought of fastening opened, as it were, timidly, and Frances Baudoin, Dagobert's wife, pale, sinking, hardly able to support herself, appeared on the threshold.
The soldier, Agricola, and Mother Bunch, were plunged in such deep dejection, that neither of them at first perceived the entrance. Frances advanced two steps into the room, fell upon her knees, clasped her hands together, and said in a weak and humble voice; "My poor husband—pardon!"
At these words, Agricola and the work-girl—whose backs were towards the door—turned round suddenly, and Dagobert hastily raised his head.
"My mother!" cried Agricola, running to Frances.
"My wife!" cried Dagobert, as he also rose, and advanced to meet the unfortunate woman.
"On your knees, dear mother!" said Agricola, stooping down to embrace her affectionately. "Get up, I entreat you!"
"No, my child," said Frances, in her mild, firm accents, "I will not rise, till your father has forgiven me. I have wronged him much—now I know it."