"Then, Charles, if you are right, your crime is beyond forgiveness! Murderer! Murderer!"
The two men stopped short as a slight sound in the passage caught their attention. A silence fell upon them that they could not break, and they stood dumbfounded, nervous and overwrought.
The door of the room opened very slowly, and a white form appeared against the darkness of the corridor outside.
Robed in a long night-dress, Thérèse stood there, with hair dishevelled, bloodless lips, and eyes dilated with horror; the child was shaking from head to foot; as if every movement hurt her, she painfully raised her arm and pointed to Charles.
"Thérèse!" Etienne Rambert muttered: "Thérèse, you were outside?"
The child's lips moved: she seemed to be making a more than human effort, and a whisper escaped her lips:
"Yes——"
But she could say no more: her eyes rolled, her whole frame tottered, and then, without sign or cry, she fell rigid and unconscious to the floor.