"It is her," murmured La Marmotte with a sudden relief; and then she almost spoke the words aloud, "she prays." And after a moment of hesitation, she crept up softly, step by step, and stood behind mademoiselle, a tumult of strange thoughts in her soul. La Marmotte quivered from head to foot. Near her was a small table. With a shaking hand she placed the light thereon, and made yet another step forward.
Prayer! Years had passed since she had prayed. It was years since she had learned to laugh at the soul's communion with its God; to laugh, and yet to know, in her heart of hearts, that she lied to herself. After all, life had gone gaily with her. She was as a sleep-walker in some garden of dreamland until this girl had come, and with her coming startled her into wakefulness. And, standing there, La Marmotte was for the moment innocent and pure in heart. "I will pray too," she thought. What she was going to say, what she was going to ask from her Creator, never struck her. All that she felt in her impulsive and emotional heart was an overpowering desire to pray. She half sank on her knees, and then sprang up, flushed and trembling, for at the moment mademoiselle arose, and, turning, saw her.
"Mademoiselle was praying?" stammered the woman.
"Yes, madame. I was thanking God for our escape, and for the friends
He has given us here."
La Marmotte thought of Simon lurking in his chamber. She thought of Torquato Trotto, and she shivered at the thought. Mademoiselle came up to her, and placing a hand on her shoulder, said: "I will never forget the kindness I have had here."
It was too much for La Marmotte. She shrank from the gentle touch.
"Don't," she said; "I am not worthy."
But mademoiselle simply leaned forward and kissed her forehead, and the caress broke the woman down.
Falling on her knees she sobbed out: "Forgive! forgive! Mademoiselle, there is danger here! They are going to kill here! Go back to monsieur, and leave this place whilst there is time. Better trust to the mercy of the forest wolves than the mercy of Le Jaquemart."
"Is this true?"