Despite this hopeful prospect, Mario's heart was broken when the heavy door of the convent closed between him and his dear companion. It seemed to him that she would, never come forth again, nor was he free from anxiety concerning Mercedes, who strove to smile when she left him, but who was like a madwoman for a moment when she no longer saw him, and realized that she was doomed, for the first time in her life, to sleep under a different roof. The result was that she hardly slept at all, nor did Lauriane. They talked almost all night, and wept together, being no longer restrained by the fear of distressing Mario by their grief. "My dear Mercedes," said Lauriane, as she kissed the Moor, "I know what a sacrifice you make for me by parting from your child for my consolation." "My daughter," replied the Moor, "I confess that in consoling you I console Mario, since he loves you perhaps more than he loves me. Do not say no; I have seen it; but I am not jealous of you, for I feel that you will make his life happy." It was impossible to shake the Moor's conviction that that improbable marriage would take place, and Lauriane dared not contradict her, especially at that moment. Bois-Doré had some doubts concerning the orders said to have been given by the prince with regard to Lauriane. The prince was naturally treacherous, grasping and ungrateful; but he was not cruel, and his aversion to women did not go so far as persecution. Moreover, the marquis had fancied that he could detect some symptoms of confusion in the lieutenant-general's manner when he questioned him concerning the prince's alleged secret orders. He hoped to induce him, by gentle persuasion, to revoke his decree. He sent a messenger to Poitou to try to find Monsieur de Beuvre and urge him to return at the earliest possible moment, and he took up his abode at Bourges, in order to follow up his plan with respect to Monsieur Biet, and also to keep his eye upon his dear ward. The messenger was unable to find Monsieur de Beuvre; he had gone to sea again, no one knew where. At the end of two months they had not heard from him. Lauriane wept for him as for the dead. She was not deceived by the tales the marquis told her to persuade her that he had been seen and that he was well. He pretended to be embarrassed by the presence of the sister, who slept all the time, and to be afraid to show her the letters which supported his statements. Lauriane adopted the course of remaining calm, in order to tranquillize Mario, whose eyes were constantly fixed upon her with an anxious expression. LXIV The year 1622 passed in this way, and the marquis was unable, by prayers or threats, to obtain the prisoner's release on parole. Monsieur Biet, fearing that he had made a mistake, had obtained authority to imprison Madame de Beuvre, after it was done.