gainst the pale-blue
sky the two towers of the old castle, which now served as prison to
Sauveterre.

"That is the place where my Jacques is kept," murmured the marquis.
"There my son is imprisoned, accused of horrible crimes."

"We will get him out of it," said the doctor cheerfully, as he helped
the old gentleman into the carriage.

But in vain did he try, during the drive, to rouse, as he called it, the
spirits of his companions. His hopes found no echo in their distressed
hearts.

M. Folgat inquired after Dionysia, whom he had been surprised not to see
at the station. M. de Chandore replied that she had staid at home with
the Misses Lavarande, to keep M. Magloire company; and that was all.

There are situations in which it is painful to talk. The marquis had
enough to do to suppress the spasmodic sobs which now and then
would rise in his throat. He was upset by the thought that he was at
Sauveterre. Whatever may be said to the contrary, distance does not
weaken our emotions. Shaking hands with M. de Chandore in person had
moved him more deeply than all the letters he had received for a month.
And when he saw Jacques's prison from afar, he had the first clear
notion of the horrible tortures endured by his son. The marchioness was
utterly exhausted: she felt as if all the springs in her system were
broken.

M. de Chandore trembled when he looked at them, and saw how they all
were on the point of succumbing. If they despaired, what could he
hope for,--he, who knew how indissolubly Dionysia's fate in life was
connected with Jacques?

At length the carriage stopped before his house. The door opened
instantly, and the marchioness found herself in Dionysia's arms, and
soon after comfortably seated in an easy-chair. The others had followed
her. It was past two o'clock; but every minute now was valuable.
Arranging his spectacles, Dr. Seignebos said,--

"I propose that we exchange our information. I, for my part, I am still
at the same point. But you know my views. I do not give them up. Cocoleu
is an impostor, and it shall be proved. I appear to notice him no
longer; but, in reality, I watch him more closely than ever."

Dionysia interrupted him, saying,--

"Before any thing is decided, there is one fact which you all ought to
know. Listen."

Pale like death, for it cost her a great struggle to reveal thus the
secret of her heart, but with a voice full of energy, and an eye full of
fire, she told them what she