Yes, the step taken by the Misses Lavarande was foolish. At the point
which things had reached now, their going to see M. Galpin was perhaps
equivalent to furnishing him the means to crush Jacques. But whose fault
was it, but M. de Chandore’s and M. Folgat’s? Had they not committed an
unpardonable blunder in leaving Sauveterre without any other precaution
than to send word through M. Seneschal’s servant, that they would be
back for dinner, and that they need not be troubled about them?
Not be troubled? And that to the Marchioness de Boiscoran and Dionysia,
to Jacques’s mother and Jacques’s betrothed.
Certainly, at first, the two wretched women preserved their self-control
in a manner, trying to set each other an example of courage and
confidence. But, as hour after hour passed by, their anxiety became
intolerable; and gradually, as they confided their apprehensions to
each other, their grief broke out openly. They thought of Jacques being
innocent, and yet treated like one of the worst criminals, alone in
the depth of his prison, given up to the most horrible inspirations of
despair. What could have been his feelings during the twenty-four
hours which had brought him no news from his friends? Must he not fancy
himself despised and abandoned.
“That is an intolerable thought!” exclaimed Dionysia at lat. “We must
get to him at any price.”
“How?” asked the marchioness.
“I do not know; but there must be some way. There are things which I
would not have ventured upon as long as I was alone; but, with you by my
side, I can risk any thing. Let us go to the prison.”