She told what she knew, and read Florentin's letter.
"He is a good boy, your brother," he said, as if talking to himself.
"You will save him?"
"How can I?"
This cry escaped him without her understanding its weight; without her divining the expression of anxious curiosity in his glance.
"To whom shall I address myself, if not to you? Are you not everything to me? My support, my guide, my counsel, my God!"
She explained what she wished him to do. Once more an exclamation escaped Saniel.
"You wish me to go to the judge—me?"
"Who, better than you, can explain how things happened?"
Saniel, who had recovered from his first feeling of surprise, did not flinch. Evidently she spoke with entire honesty, suspecting nothing, and it would be folly to look for more than she said.