The secret which approaching death had wrestled from Marie-Anne in the fortification at the Croix d'Arcy, Mme.

d'Escorval was ignorant of when she joined her entreaties to those of her son to induce the unfortunate girl to remain.
But the fact occasioned Maurice scarcely an uneasiness.
His faith in his mother was complete, absolute; he was sure that she would forgive when she learned the truth.
Loving and chaste wives and mothers are always most indulgent to those who have been led astray by the voice of passion.
Such noble women can, with impunity, despise and brave the prejudices of hypocrites.
These reflections made Maurice feel more tranquil in regard to Marie-Anne's future, and he now thought only of his father.
Day was breaking; he declared that he would assume some disguise and go to Montaignac at once.
On hearing these words, Mme.

d'Escorval turned and hid her face in the sofa-cushions to stifle her sobs.
She was trembling for her husband's life, and now her son must precipitate himself into danger.

Perhaps before the sun sank to rest, she would have neither husband nor son.
And yet she did not say "no." She felt that Maurice was only fulfilling a sacred duty.

She would have loved him less had she supposed him capable of cowardly hesitation.