Then all at once the woman, holding out both her arms toward madame’s chair, swayed forward to her knees with a low wailing cry that brought the whole company to their feet. There was one moment of terrible silence, and then a woman’s scream rang through the room, as Madame Eleanore staggered to her feet and started forward to the side of the wanderer. “Laure! Laure! O God! my Laure!” As the two women—madame now on her knees beside her daughter—intertwined their arms, and the older woman felt again the living flesh of her flesh, the throng at the table moved slowly together and drew closer and closer to these central figures. Nearest of all stood Alixe and Courtoise, white-faced, tremulous, but with great joy written in their eyes. They had recognized Laure simultaneously an instant before madame, but they had restrained themselves from rushing upon her, leaving the first place to the mother. Eleanore was fondling Laure in her arms, murmuring over her inarticulate things, while tears streamed from her eyes, and her strained throat palpitated with sobs. What Laure did or felt, none knew. She lay back, half-fainting, in the warm clasp; but presently she struggled a little away, and sat straight. Pushing the tangled hair out of her eyes,—those black, brilliant eyes that were still undimmed,—and seeing the universal gaze upon her, she shrank within herself, and whispered to her mother: “In the name of God, madame, I prithee let me be alone with thee!” Then Eleanore bethought herself, and rose, lifting Laure also to her feet. For a moment she looked about her, and then with a mere lifting of her hand dispersed the crowd. They melted away like snow in rain, till only three were left there in the great hall: Courtoise, Alixe, and lastly monseigneur, who during the whole scene had stood apart from the throng, the law of excommunication heavy upon him. Forbid a mother, starved by nearly a year of denial of her child, to satisfy herself now that that child was at last returned to her? Not he, the man of flesh and blood and human passions! Madame stood still for an instant in the centre of the disordered room, supporting Laure with one arm. Then she turned to Alixe. “Go thou, Alixe, and get food,—milk, and meat, and bread,—and bring it in the space of a few moments to my room. But let no other seek to disturb us in our solitude. Now, my girl!” Madame led her daughter across the hall and up the stairs, and to the door of her bedroom, into which Laure passed first. Madame followed her in, and closed and fastened the door after her. Then she turned to her child.