Maurice and his mother embrace you.

Hope, courage!" Beneath these few lines was the letter M.
But the baron did not need this initial to be reassured.

He had recognized Abbe Midon's handwriting.
"Ah! he is a true friend," he murmured.
Then the recollection of his doubts and despair arose in his mind.
"This explains why neither my wife nor son came to visit me," he thought.

"And I doubted their energy--and I was complaining of their neglect!" Intense joy filled his breast; he raised the letter that promised him life and liberty to his lips, and enthusiastically exclaimed: "To work! to work!" He had chosen the finest of the two files, and was about to attack the ponderous bars, when he fancied he heard someone open the door of the next room.
Someone had opened it, certainly.

The person closed it again, but did not lock it.
Then the baron heard someone moving cautiously about.