“But,” Asie went on, “if Monsieur Camusot questions him the wrong way, he can make a guilty man of him with two sentences; so, if it is in your power to get the Conciergerie opened to you, and to say a few words to him, go at once, and give him this paper.—He will be released to-morrow; I will answer for it. Now, get him out of the scrape, for you got him into it.”
“I?”
“Yes, you!—You fine ladies never have a son even when you own millions. When I allowed myself the luxury of keeping boys, they always had their pockets full of gold! Their amusements amused me. It is delightful to be mother and mistress in one. Now, you—you let the men you love die of hunger without asking any questions. Esther, now, made no speeches; she gave, at the cost of perdition, soul and body, the million your Lucien was required to show, and that is what has brought him to this pass——”
“Poor girl! Did she do that! I love her!” said Leontine.
“Yes—now!” said Asie, with freezing irony.
“She was a real beauty; but now, my angel, you are better looking than she is.—And Lucien’s marriage is so effectually broken off, that nothing can mend it,” said the Duchess in a whisper to Leontine.
The effect of this revelation and forecast was so great on the Countess that she was well again. She passed her hand over her brow; she was young once more.
“Now, my lady, hot foot, and make haste!” said Asie, seeing the change, and guessing what had caused it.
“But,” said Madame de Maufrigneuse, “if the first thing is to prevent Lucien’s being examined by Monsieur Camusot, we can do that by writing two words to the judge and sending your man with it to the Palais, Leontine.”
“Then come into my room,” said Madame de Serizy.