nto the
very cases that it has previously hurried on with blind precipitation?
Who would prevent my enemies from injuring me and paralyzing all my
efforts? In a word, who would fight for me? The abbe alone could have
taken up my cause; but he was already in prison on my account. His
generous behaviour in the trial had proved that he was still my friend,
but his zeal was now fettered. And what could Marcasse do, hampered
by his humble birth and enigmatical language? Evening came, and I fell
asleep in the hope that help would be sent from on high; for I had
prayed to God with my whole soul. A few hours of sleep refreshed me; I
was aroused by the noise of bolts being drawn at the other side of
my door. O God of goodness! what was my delight on seeing Arthur, my
brother in arms, my other self, the man from whom I had had no secret
for six long years! I wept like a child on receiving this mark of love
from Providence. Arthur did not believe me guilty! Scientific matters
connected with the library at Philadelphia had taken him to Paris, where
he had heard of this sad affair in which I was implicated. He had broken
a lance with all who attacked me, and had not lost a moment in coming to
offer help or consolation.

In a transport of joy I poured out my soul to him, and then explained
how he could assist me. He wanted to take the coach for Paris that very
evening; but I implored him to go to Sainte-Severe first of all to get
news of Edmee. Four mortal days had passed since I had received any;
and, moreover, Marcasse had never given me such exact details as I could
have wished.

"Ease your mind," said Arthur. "I will undertake to bring you the truth.
I am a pretty good surgeon; and I have a practised eye. I shall be
able to give you some idea of what you have to hope or fear. From
Sainte-Severe I shall go straight to Paris."

Two days later I received a long letter from him giving full details
about Edmee.

Her condition was extraordinary. She did not speak, nor did she appear
to be in pain as long as nothing happened to excite her nerves; but on
the first word which stirred up recollections of her troubles she would
be seized with convulsions. Her moral isolation formed the greatest
obstacle to recovery. Physically she wanted for nothing; she had two
good doctors and a most devoted nurse. Mademoiselle Leblanc likewise was
very zealous in her attentions, though this dangerous woman often gave
her pain by untimely remarks and