Monsieur Jacques flung himself on his knees before that young girl. He grasped her hands and covered them with kisses; and then she felt great, warm tears falling over them, as if in penitence he was striving to wash the kisses away. “If it is in the power of mortal man to break through those walls to find and liberate your father, it shall be done,” he said, rising from his knees. Marguerite followed him with her eyes, which slowly filled with tears. “It will be all in vain,” she murmured, “my poor father must be dead. It was no fraud that the beautiful queen and that good king committed. How can my mother, how can you, Monsieur Jacques, believe them guilty of this cruel deception?” “Wait! Do not let us judge yet! By-and-by we shall know; for as there is a just God in heaven, not a stone shall be left upon another of that hideous building!” As Monsieur Jacques spoke, a clear, ringing knock sounded at the door of the room. Marguerite arose, but it was flung open, and a man, dressed as a page, and with the audacious air of a superior, entered the room. “I was ordered,” he said, looking around, “to find a lady, the wife or widow of one Dr. Gosner, who died last week in the Bastille. Is this her apartment, or have I been directed amiss?” “Madame Gosner has gone out,” answered Monsieur Jacques, for Marguerite was so taken by surprise that she could find no voice. “Then I must wait,” said the page, seating himself; “it is my orders.” “Fortunately, that is madame’s step on the stairs,” answered Monsieur Jacques; and that moment Madame Gosner entered the room, her noble presence, the air of refinement and authority with which she presented herself, brought the page to his feet, and prompted a low bow, to which madame turned a calm and questioning look. “Madame will forgive what may seem like an intrusion,” said the page; “but I am ordered by a personage that I dare not venture to disobey, and must do my errand. This personage has heard with profound regret that the husband of madame has perished in the Bastille just as the royal clemency had ordered that he should be set at liberty. There is no power in France that can bring back life, but all that justice and sympathy can offer to his widow and child I am empowered to give. In this portfolio, lady, are twenty thousand francs, which I am ordered to present to your daughter as a marriage portion, should she ever choose to leave her mother’s protection. For yourself there is an annuity already secured, which will make your future life free from care.” The page paused, and held out a small portfolio; but Madame Gosner put it gently back. “Did this come from the king?” she inquired. “Madame, I am forbidden to answer.” “Or the queen?” “Here also I must be silent.” “If it comes from either the King or Queen of France, take it back, with this message: say that the wife of Dr. Gosner accepts no bribes, and has no price for her husband’s liberty. Say that she knows——”