The marquise left the parlour when a loud noise was heard in the office of M. Pascal. It sounded like the fall of a body on the floor. The servant, leaving Madeleine and the notary at once, ran to his master's room. The marquise, after having received bank-bills to the amount of her letter of credit, was just about to enter her carriage, accompanied by the notary, when she saw the servant rush out of the gateway with a frightened air. "What is the matter, my good friend?" asked the notary, "you seem to be alarmed." "Ah, monsieur, what a pity! my master has just had an attack of apoplexy. I am running for the physician." And he disappeared, running at the top of his speed. "I thought," said the notary, addressing Madeleine, "this dear gentleman did not appear to be in his natural condition. Did you not observe the same thing, madame marquise?" "I thought, like you, there was something peculiar in the countenance of M. Pascal." "God grant this attack may be nothing serious, madame. So rich a man to die in the vigour of life, that would really be a pity!" "A great pity indeed! But tell me, monsieur, if you wish, I can take you home in my carriage, and you can deliver to me the deed relating to M. Dutertre; I have need of it." "Here it is, madame, but I shall not permit you to drive out of your way for me. I am going only two or three steps from here." "Very well. Have the kindness, then, to take these forty thousand francs. I wish to have ten thousand for my journey and a letter of credit on Vienna." "I will attend to it immediately, madame. And when will you need this money?" "This evening before six o'clock, if you please." "I will be on time, madame." The notary bowed respectfully, and Madeleine ordered the coachman to drive directly to the factory of Charles Dutertre. CHAPTER XXII. Madeleine, as we have said, on leaving the house of M. Pascal, went directly to the home of Madame Dutertre, who was alone in her bedchamber when the servant announced the marquise. Sophie, seated in an armchair, seemed a prey to overwhelming despair. At the sight of her friend, she raised her head quickly; her sad face, bathed in tears, was of a deadly pallor. "Take this, read it, and weep no longer," said Madeleine, tenderly, handing her the deed signed by M. Pascal. "Was I wrong to tell you yesterday to hope?" "What is this paper?" asked Sophie Dutertre, in surprise, "explain it." "Yours and your husband's deliverance--" "Our deliverance?" "M. Pascal has pledged himself to give your husband all the time needed to pay the debt." "Can it be true! No, no, such a happiness--Oh, it is impossible!" "Read, then, and see for yourself, unbeliever." Sophie rapidly looked over the deed; then, staring at the marquise, she exclaimed: "That seems like a miracle; I cannot believe my eyes. And how was it done? My God, it must be magic!" "Perhaps," replied Madeleine, smiling, "who knows?"