The innkeeper himself was so overcome that he forgot all about his companion. When he turned to speak to him, Jean was gone.
Chapter VII
The Rescue
Marie of Chafleur had borne her imprisonment with unshaken courage. She was resolved that she would not be forced to take the vow, and though she suffered greatly in her damp, gloomy prison,—she who could still take childish delight in every little flower,—she remained true to her resolution.
The Abbess, who had been so favorably impressed by her when they first met, was still more impressed by her firmness, and gave her permission to visit her. Upon one such occasion the abbess kindly said: “You grieve me, my daughter. Your obstinacy may compel me to adopt severe measures.”
Marie made no reply. She was looking out of the open window at the garden, which was now in full bloom, and was so absorbed with the view that she did not hear the Abbess. Her face was all aglow with excitement, her eyes sparkled, and she gleefully clapped her hands. “Oh, how beautiful, how beautiful!” she cried, approaching nearer to the window. “Oh, if I could but be among those flowers!”
“You are childish,” said the Abbess, without manifesting displeasure, however. “Listen, and pay attention to what I say.”
Marie wiped away her rising tears and looked into the Abbess’s face. “It is not very long ago that you were as young as I,” she said, “and, oh, how beautiful you must have been without that veil! Tell me, have you never enjoyed yourself in the flowery meadows? Have you never chased the pretty butterflies, never listened to the songs of the birds, never breathed the fragrance of the flowers? Oh, tell me.”
“Why do you call up such recollections, child?”
“Oh, yes, I know you have, and so you can understand me when I tell you it is impossible for me to stay within these walls. I must go. Surely, noble lady, you will not keep me here any longer. Oh, open the doors and let me out. I will go on foot and travel through the country all alone until I find my uncle. And even should I not find him, and have to suffer hunger, thirst, cold, and heat, still I should be happy. So once more, noble lady, I implore you to let me go.”
“Child, child, you are asking impossibilities of me.”