Rudolph, exhausted by the violence of his feelings, fell back in his chair, covering his face with his hands. Madame d'Harville remained stupefied, immovable, dumb, breathing with difficulty--in turns a prey to joy, to fear, for the effect which the revelation she was about to make might have upon the prince--in fine, exalted by a holy gratitude toward Providence, who intrusted her--_her_--to announce to Rudolph that his daughter lived, and she had brought her back to him. Clémence, agitated by these emotions, so violent, so diverse, could not utter a word. Murphy, after having for a moment partaken of the mad hopes of the prince, seemed quite as much overcome as he was. Suddenly the marchioness, yielding to an unexpected and involuntary emotion, forgetting the presence of Murphy and Rudolph, sunk on her knees, clasped her hands, and cried, with an expression of fervent piety and ineffable gratitude: "Thanks, my God! be praised! I acknowledge Thy sovereign will. Thanks once more, for Thou hast chosen me to inform him that his child is saved!" Although said in a low voice, these words, pronounced in a tone of sincere and holy fervor, reached the ears of Murphy and the prince. The latter raised his head quickly at the moment Clémence arose from the ground. It is impossible to describe the look, action, and expression of Rudolph, on contemplating Madame d'Harville, whose charming features, stamped with a celestial joy, shone at this moment with superhuman beauty. Leaning with one hand on the marble table, and compressing with the other the rapid pulsations of her heart, she gave an affirmative nod of the head in answer to a look from Rudolph, which once more we are unable to describe. "Below--in my carriage." Save for the presence of Murphy, who, quick as lightning, threw himself before Rudolph, he would have rushed at once to the street. "My lord, you would kill her!" cried the squire, holding back the prince. "Only since yesterday she is convalescent. For her life, no imprudence, my lord," added Clémence. "You are right," said Rudolph, restraining himself with difficulty; "you are right--I will be calm--I will not see her yet--I will wait--let my first emotions be controlled. Ah! it is too much--too much in one day!" added he, in a broken voice. Then, addressing Madame d'Harville, and extending his hand toward her, he cried, with a burst of inexpressible gratitude, "I am pardoned! You are the angel of mercy!" "Your highness restored to me my father--Heaven willed that I should bring back your child," answered Clémence. "But, in my turn, I ask your pardon for my weakness. This revelation--so sudden, so unexpected--has confused me. I confess that I have not the courage to go for Fleur-de-Marie--my agitation would alarm her." "And how was she saved?" cried Rudolph. "See my ingratitude. I have not yet asked you this question." "At the moment she was drowning, she was rescued from a watery grave by a courageous woman." "Do you know her?"