Ambroisine walked into the room very softly, in order to make no noise. The faithful Marie, who was already in the adjoining room, allowed her mistress's young friend to pass without remonstrance; for the countess had once told her that Ambroisine was at liberty to enter her apartment at all times and seasons. The young mother and her child were both sleeping peacefully. "They are enjoying sweet repose," said Ambroisine to herself, as she gazed at them. "Poor Bathilde! you have earned it by all the torments and suffering you have endured!--Would it not be a crime to disturb it? The man who is yonder is most unjust to you! does he deserve that you should shed more tears for him?--Ah, no! it seems to me that he does not deserve it.--But she still loves him, he is this little angel's father; and then, too, he has held Blanche to his heart! For that reason, we must forgive him." And Ambroisine laid her hand gently on Bathilde's arm. Her light sleep was disturbed by the slightest touch. When she saw her friend standing by her side, the young mother apprehended some calamity and instantly turned her eyes toward her daughter; but the child was sleeping quietly, and her pink and white cheeks were altogether reassuring as to her health. "What is the matter, in heaven's name," asked Bathilde, half rising, "that you are here so early, dear Ambroisine? You must have something of great importance to tell me?" "I have not left the house since yesterday; that is to say, I left it for a moment, but returned at once and passed the night here." "Speak, Ambroisine, explain yourself; one would say that you dared not.--Oh! I will be brave enough, if necessary. Besides, my daughter is with me; and when I fear nothing for her, I am very strong, I assure you!" Thereupon Ambroisine told her friend of the events of the previous night, taking pains, however, not to make the count's wound appear so serious as the surgeon had declared it to be. But Bathilde did not give her time to finish her story; she had already risen and was dressing in great haste, saying, in a voice broken by the emotion that choked her utterance: "He is here, mon Dieu! here--so near me--since last night--and I was not told! And you left me in ignorance of his suffering!--Oh! that was wrong--very wrong! is it not my duty to be with my husband when he needs care?" "Our duty was to follow the orders of the surgeon; he said that the slightest excitement would be fatal to monsieur le comte." "Mon Dieu! then he is very ill!" "Remember that he does not know as yet where he has been taken; and if he sees you by his side, if he recognizes you, do you think that it will not excite him?" "Very well! I will hide myself, I will keep out of sight, he shall not see me!--But I shall see him, I shall know what his condition is, and I shall be able to add my care to that which you give him.--Come, Ambroisine, come!"