She went to the Cave. She took Angers with her now. Upon the wall a paper was found. It was a note from M. Laflamme. She asked Angers to give it to her without reading it. She put it in her pocket and kept it there until she should see Hugh Tryon. He should read it to her. She said to herself as she felt the letter in her pocket: "He loved me. It was the least that I could do. I am so glad." Yet she was not altogether glad either, and disturbing thoughts crossed the parallels of her pleasure. The Governor and Madame Solde first brought news of the complete escape of the prisoners. The two had fled through the hills by the Brocken Path, and though pursued after crossing, had reached the coast, and were taken aboard the Parroquet, which sailed away towards Australia. It is probable that Marie's visitors had their suspicions regarding the escape, but they said nothing, and did not make her uncomfortable. Just now they were most concerned for her bitter misfortune. Madame Solde said to her: "My poor Marie--does it feel so dreadful, so dark?" "No, madame, it is not so bad. There are so many things which one does not wish to see, and one is spared the pain." "But you will see again. When you go to England, to great physicians there." "Then I should have three lives, madame: when I could see, when sight died, and when sight was born again. How wise I should be!" They left her sadly, and after a time she heard footsteps that she knew. She came forward and greeted Tryon. "Ah," she said, "all's well with them, I know; and you were so good." "They are safe upon the seas," he gently replied, and he kissed her hand. "Now you will read this letter for me. M. Laflamme left it behind in the Cave." With a pang he took it, and read thus: DEAR FRIEND,--My grief for your misfortune is inexpressible. If it were possible I should say so in person, but there is danger, and we must fly at once. You shall hear from me in full gratitude when I am in safety. I owe you so many thanks, as I give you so much of devotion. But there is the future for all. Mademoiselle, I kiss your hand. Always yours, RIVE LAFLAMME. "Hugh!" she said sadly when he had finished, "I seem to have new knowledge of things, now that I am blind. I think this letter is not altogether real. You see, that was his way of saying-good-bye." What Hugh Tryon thought, he did not say. He had met the Governor on his way to Pascal House, and had learned some things which were not for her to know. She continued: "I could not bear that one who was innocent of any real crime, who was a great artist, and who believed himself a patriot, should suffer so here. When he asked me I helped him. Yet I suppose I was selfish, wasn't I? It was because he loved me." Hugh spoke breathlessly: "And because--you loved him, Marie?"