"Oh!" said Babet sorrowfully, "I see that you too will not kiss me." She turned her head and wept, for she believed that Françou also took her for a thief, and did not wish to kiss her.
"Oh! yes, yes," said Françou, as she threw herself into Babet's arms, who embraced her tenderly, and then said in a stifled voice:
"Go, Françou, go to Madame Pallois, she is waiting for you."
Françou walked slowly away, uncertain what to do. On reaching the door of Madame Pallois's room, her courage failed her, and instead of entering she ran out towards the yard. There she beheld Babet standing on the brink of the well, looking down as if intending to throw herself into it. She rushed forward, uttering a piercing shriek; Babet turned her head, and Françou had just time to seize hold of her.
"Oh! it is I!" she cried, falling on her knees and holding Babet by the skirts with all her strength. While Babet tried to disengage herself, Madame Pallois came up.
"Oh!" exclaimed Françou, sinking on the ground, "don't let her throw herself into the well! It was I took the money."
Babet and Madame Pallois stood motionless with astonishment. Françou still continued prostrate on the ground, sobbing violently. Babet raised her up, though she herself could scarcely stand.
Madame Pallois made her sit down; then, turning to Françou, "Are you quite sure that what you say is true, Françou?" she asked, somewhat sternly.
"Ask my father," said Françou, hiding her face against the wall.
"And what have you done with it?"