"Yes, Mont Saint Jean, I listen," answered Fleur-de-Marie, inclining her enchanting face toward the hideous visage of her companion. "You will laugh at me," answered she, sadly; "I want to speak, and I don't know how." "Say on, Mont Saint Jean." "Have you not the eyes of an angel!" said the prisoner, looking at Fleur-de-Marie in a kind of ecstasy; "your beautiful eyes encourage me. Come, I will try to say what I wish. There is the sun, is it not? It is very warm, it makes our prison gay, it is pleasant to see and feel, is it not?" "Without doubt." "Well, let us suppose--this sun did not make itself, and if one is grateful to it, so much the more reason--" "To be grateful toward Him who created it, you mean, Mont Saint Jean! You are right; hence, you should pray to Him, adore Him--it is God." "That's it, there's my idea," cried the prisoner, joyfully; "that's it; I ought to be grateful to my companions, but I ought to pray to you, adore you, La Goualeuse, for it is you who have rendered them good to me, instead of being wicked as they were." "But, if I am good, as you say, Mont Saint Jean, it is God who has made me so; it is, then, He whom you must thank." "Ah! marry--perhaps so, then, since you say so," answered the prisoner; "if it pleases you to have it so, very well."' "Yes, my poor Mont Saint Jean, pray to Him often. This will be the best way of proving to me that you love me a little." "Love you, La Goualeuse! But, do you not recollect what you told the others, to prevent them from beating me? 'It is not her alone you beat, it is also her child.' Well! for the same reason, I do not love you for myself alone, but also for my child." "Thank you, thank you, Mont Saint Jean; you give me pleasure to hear you say that." At this moment, Madame Armand, the inspectress, entered the court. After having sought for Fleur-de-Marie with her eyes, she came to her with a satisfied and smiling air. "Good news, my child!" "What do you say, madame?" cried La Goualeuse, rising. "Your friends have not forgotten you; they have obtained your liberty. The director has just received the notice." "Can it be possible, madame! Oh! what happiness!" The emotion of Fleur-de-Marie was so violent, that she turned pale, put her hand to her heart, which beat violently, and fell back on her seat. "Calm yourself, my child," said Madame Armand, kindly: "happily, such shocks are without danger." "Ah, madame, how grateful I ought to be!" "It is, doubtless, Madame d'Harville who has obtained your liberty. There is an old lady here who is charged to conduct you to your friends. Wait for me; I will return for you; I have a few words to say in the workroom." It would be difficult to describe the expression of deep grief which spread over the features of Mont Saint Jean on learning that her good angel was to leave Saint Lazare.