e dried her tears, if
necessary, to bid him "go."

Moreover, what was not preferable to the agony of suspense which they
had been enduring for hours?

Maurice had reached the door when the abbe stopped him.

"You must go to Montaignac," said he, "but it would be folly to disguise
yourself. You would certainly be recognized, and the saying: 'He who
conceals himself is guilty,' will assuredly be applied to you. You must
go openly, with head erect, and you must even exaggerate the assurance
of innocence. Go straight to the Duc de Sairmeuse and the Marquis de
Courtornieu. I will accompany you; we will go in the carriage."

Maurice seemed undecided.

"Obey these counsels, my son," said Mme. d'Escorval; "the abbe knows
much better than we do what is best."

"I will obey, mother."

The cure had not waited for this assent to go and give an order for
harnessing the horses. Mme. d'Escorval left the room to write a few
lines to a lady friend, whose husband exerted considerable influence in
Montaignac. Maurice and Marie-Anne were left alone.

It was the first moment of freedom and solitude which they had found
since Marie-Anne's confession.

They stood for a moment, silent and motionless, then Maurice advanced,
and clasping her in his arms, he whispered:

"Marie-Anne, my darling, my beloved, I did not know that one could love
more fondly than I loved you yesterday; but now--And you--you wish for
death when another precious life depends upon yours."

She shook her head sadly.

"I was terrified," she faltered. "The future of shame that I saw--that
I still--alas! see before me, appalled me. Now I am resigned. I will
uncomplainingly endure the punishment for my horrible fault--I will
submit to the insults and disgrace that await me!"

"Insults, to you! Ah! woe to who dares! But will you not now be my wife
in the sight of men, as you are in the sight of God? The failure of your
father's scheme sets you free!"

"No, no, Maurice, I am not free! Ah! it is you who are pitiless! I see
only too well that you curse me, that you curse the day when we met for
the first time! Confess it! Say it!"

Marie-Anne lifted her streaming eyes to his.

"Ah! I should lie if I said that. My cowardly heart has not that much
courage! I suffer--I am disgraced and humiliated, but----"

He could not finish; he drew her to him, and their lips and their tears
met in one long kiss.

"You love me," exclaimed Maurice, "you love me in spite of al