"I did well to hurry," thought she, with a sort of bitterness. "I did well to yield to my first instinct of generosity; to-morrow it would have been too late. I would not, perhaps, have had the courage to sacrifice myself to Antonine. How strange it is! An hour ago, in thinking of Frantz and her, I had not a feeling of jealousy or pain, and only a sweet melancholy, but now by degrees my heart is contracted and filled with sorrow, and this moment I suffer--oh, yes, how I suffer!" The abrupt entrance of Sophie interrupted the reflections of the marquise, and she guessed that some great misfortune had happened by the frightened, almost wild, expression of Madame Dutertre, who said to her, in a short, panting voice: "Madeleine, you have offered me aid, and now I accept it!" "Great God! Sophie, what is the matter?" "Our condition is desperate." "Do explain." "To-morrow, this evening, perhaps, Charles will be arrested." "Your husband?" "Arrested, I say; oh, my God!" "But what for? What is it?" "That monster of wickedness, whom we thought our benefactor, M. Pascal, has--" "M. Pascal!" "Yes, yesterday--I did not dare--I have not told you all, but--" "M. Pascal!" interrupted Madeleine. "Our fate is in the hands of that pitiless man; he can, and he wishes to reduce us to the last degree of misery. My God! what will become of us? What will become of our children and the father of my husband? What will become of us all? Oh, it is horrible! It is horrible!" "M. Pascal!" said the marquise, with restrained indignation, "the wretch! Oh, yes, I read it in his face; I have seen his insolence and meanness--such a man would be without pity." "You are acquainted with him?" "This morning I met him at the palace with the prince. Ah, now I regret having yielded to the anger, the contempt, which this man inspired in me. Why did you not tell me sooner? It is a great misfortune that you did not, Sophie, a great misfortune." "What do you mean?" "Oh, no matter. There is no use in going back to the past. But let us see, Sophie, my friend, do not allow yourself to despond, exaggerate nothing and tell me all, and we will find some way of escaping the blow which threatens you." "It is impossible; all that I come to ask in the name of Charles, in the name of my children, is that--" "Let me interrupt you. Why do you say it is impossible to prevent this disaster?" "M. Pascal is relentless." "That may be, but what is your position toward him?"