"Then you will be near Toulon. I know that you do not wish me to see your face or learn your secret. But if you have any love for me, come and see me there."
The poor woman yearned to embrace her son, whose hypocritical words awoke the dormant love in her bosom.
"I promise to see you before I sail on the 26th."
"Come to Toulon, then, on the 24th. And, by the way, here is a letter from one of my comrades to whom I am under deep obligations. On your way home drop it into the letter-box."
She could not decline to do him this service. Her usual caution deserted her, and as she slipped the note in her bosom the light fell full on her face.
Benedetto recognized her at once as Madame Danglars, the wife of Baron Danglars, and the mother of the girl he was to have married. He could hardly restrain a cry of rage and astonishment.
"Good-by," he said. "Do not forget the 24th."