When they reached the governor’s quarters, Christopher desired them to enter, but Marguerite saw Doudel by one of the guard houses and went to him, thus separating herself from the rest. The good man saw by her face that some great evil had fallen upon her, and placed her on a stone bench near him where she could rest in peace while her mother and Monsieur Jacques followed Christopher into the governor’s presence. Here the guard reported the death of his prisoner, which was received with an appearance of profound commiseration. The governor had recovered all his silky equanimity. With urbane politeness he invited madame and her friend into his own apartments, offered them wine and confections, as if people so disturbed could partake of such dainties; and with elaborate hypocrisy regretted the event which had made their visit to the prison so severe a disappointment. Madame Gosner listened to all this dumbly, and like one in a trance. Had the man been a statue of granite, she could not have looked into his face with less consciousness of the life that was in him. Some new idea had taken possession of her faculties and locked up her whole being. Glances of unrest passed between the governer and his subordinate; the marble stillness of this woman seemed to threaten them with danger; her appearance puzzled them. In her dress, and somewhat in her air, she might have belonged to the people; but her language was pure, her manner commanding. If she really was of the lower order, she must be one of those who wield a powerful influence among her compeers, for when she spoke, her words were impressive; when passion swayed her, as it had done in the dungeon, they swelled into powerful eloquence that would have stirred crowds with enthusiasm. She was the very woman to sway ignorant masses; and such women were even now kindling up terrible discontent among the people of Paris. It was for this reason the governor strove to conciliate the woman before she left the Bastille. But Madame Gosner would neither eat or drink in his presence. Once she crossed the room suddenly, as he was speaking, and laid her hand on his arm, as if about to question him. But a change evidently came over her purpose, and she drew back without having uttered a word. Then, in dread silence, she left the prison, pale, haggard, and so depressed by bitter disappointment, that she seemed more like a prisoner, worn out with suffering than a human being acting from her own free will. Madame Gosner entered her room, and bade her two companions enter also. Up to this time she had not spoken, but walked rapidly through the streets of Paris, looking straight ahead and pressing her lips firmly together, as if some sharp cry were attempting to break forth which she would not permit to escape her. When the door was closed and bolted, she turned upon Monsieur Jacques, and looked him steadily in the face.