"From the Bagne? Oh, say it!--the Bagne!" exclaimed the wretched woman with horror, and almost frantic as she spoke. "The father of my child! Ah! if the unhappy boy still lives--if, like me, he has not changed his name--oh, shame! shame! And yet it may be nothing: his father has, perhaps, carried out his horrid threat! What has he done with my boy? Why did he tear him from me?" "That mystery I cannot fathom," said Rodolph, with a pensive air. "What could induce the wretch to carry off your son fifteen years ago, and when he was trying to escape into a foreign land? A child of that age could only embarrass his flight." "Alas, M. Rodolph! when my husband" (the poor woman shuddered as she pronounced the word) "was arrested on the frontier and thrown into prison, where I was allowed to visit him, he said to me these horrible words: 'I took away the brat because you were fond of him, and it will be a means of compelling you to send me money, which may or may not be of service to him,--that's my affair. Whether he lives or dies it is no matter to you; but if he lives, he will be in good hands: you shall drink as deep of the shame of the son as you have of the disgrace of the father!' Alas! a month afterwards my husband was condemned to the galleys for life; and since then all my entreaties, my prayers, and letters have been in vain. I have never been able to learn the fate of my boy. Ah, M. Rodolph! where is my child at this moment? These frightful words are always ringing in my ears: 'You shall drink as deep of the shame of the son as you have of the disgrace of the father!'" "This atrocity is most inexplicable; why should he demoralise the unhappy child? Why carry him off?" "I have told you, M. Rodolph,--to compel me to send him money; although he had nearly ruined me, yet I had still some small resources, but they at length were exhausted also. In spite of his wickedness, I could not believe but that he would employ, at least, a portion of this money in the bringing-up of this unhappy child." "And your son had no sign, no mark, by which he could be recognised?" "No other than that of which I have spoken to you, M. Rodolph,--a small Saint Esprit, sculptured in lapis lazuli, tied round his neck by a chain of silver: a sacred relic, blessed by the holy father." "Courage, courage; God is all-powerful." "Providence placed me in your path, M. Rodolph." "Too late, Madame Georges; too late. I might have saved you many years of sorrow." "Ah, M. Rodolph, how kind you have been to me!" "In what way? I bought this farm; in time of your prosperity you were not idle, and now you have become my manager here, where--thanks to your excellent superintendence, intelligence, and activity--this establishment produces me--"