"And Felix?" she cried, "has he escaped too? Where have you left him? Ah, he is dead! I am sure of it! I can read it in your face!"
"Yes," I answered sadly, "there have been terrible doings in Paris, and Felix is among the slain."
"And he was so brave and good!" she sobbed. "Poor Felix! Tell me about it, Edmond."
When she had become more composed I related the story just as it had happened, but softening down the more brutal parts lest her grief should break out afresh. She was silent for a little while, but presently she said, "The Cause is ruined, Edmond!"
"Yes," I admitted, reluctantly, "with all our leaders slain, or in the hands of the king, we are powerless. And now, my dear Jeanne, you had better go to your room and rest a while."
"But you are hurt!" she exclaimed anxiously.
"The wound is not serious, and it has been skilfully dressed. However, Roger shall fetch a surgeon."
"And you need food," she said, "you are weak and faint. It is you who need rest, and I will take care of you."
"Very well," I said, thinking it would be better perhaps if she had something to occupy her mind, "you shall nurse back my strength."
Now that the excitement of the journey had passed I felt, indeed, painfully weak, and for several days kept to my bed, being waited upon by Jeanne and Roger, while Jacques slept at night in my chamber.