“I see,� d’Aguesseau replied; “you are a wise man, Petit Bossu. Tell me about Madame de St. Cyr.�
“She died yesterday in the jail here,� the hunchback answered; “the shock of the arrest and mademoiselle’s danger ended her life.�
D’Aguesseau clenched his hand. “Mon Dieu!� he exclaimed, “how long wilt Thou afflict us?—how long?�
“It was best so,� the cobbler remarked quietly. “If she had lived, Mademoiselle Rosaline would have sacrificed herself to save her. She believed that you and her grandmother were both captives; M. de Baudri told her so, and promised to save your lives—to release you both only on the condition that she should marry him.�
“The accursed villain!� broke out François, laying his hand on his sword: “may I be spared to chastise him!�
He walked to and fro in the little room in suppressed fury; all the fierce impulses of a bold and daring nature were aroused.
“Dieu!� he exclaimed, in a low tone, “I cannot go to England for Cavalier; I must stay and fight this monster!�
“Nay,� remarked le Bossu, gravely, “you must save Mademoiselle de St. Cyr.�
François came to himself. “I ought not to need you to remind me,� he said. “I will go at once to the appointed place and wait; it is not long now, but, in the meantime, is she safe?�
“We can only trust in Providence,� replied the cobbler, “since to approach her would increase her risks. But—pardon me, monsieur—if you stay much longer in Nîmes, you will be arrested.�