Baby covered her with kisses and childish coaxings which seemed in a measure to console her for what she had endured on his account, and he was dearer to her than ever. No real mother, she reflected, could love more deeply than she this child. Evening fell upon the grim castle and shadows darkened the Marquise's boudoir. Amélie, folding Baby's hands bade him pray, after which she placed him in bed. She barricaded the doors by drawing pieces of furniture against them and prepared to pass the night in vigil. Suddenly a slight noise filled her with terror. It came from the mythologically wrought panels adorning the walls. It sounded like the gnawing of a mouse. The gnawing grew louder, the panel moved, revealing a door whose edges were the gilded framing, and Jean Vilon in his bridal clothes, the nuptial flowers in his breast, stood before her. He was a handsome man, the finest "gars" in that part of Brittany. Happiness made his dark face beautiful. She repelled her husband with a look of scorn which made him stand motionless. "How dare you enter, Jean?" she demanded advancing upon him with a threatening look. "How dare you enter without my permission? Did you not see that I had locked myself in? You come like a thief through a secret entrance which only you know. Wretch! Leave me this instant and never return. Do you hear? _Never!_" Jean advanced in his turn, stammering: "Mademoiselle, what do you mean? Are we not husband and wife? I have known the secret of that door since I was a boy, but I have never used it. You were safe under my protection. But now! By God and Saint Anne!--the priest has joined us!--" Amélie, taking courage at his moderation, said still more scornfully: "You say we are joined together? Idiot! Do you consider that service valid? Are you pretending innocence? Are you a fool or a knave? Are you the Duchess's creature or her victim? Do you not know how they have wrested from me my consent? Has no one told you that I married you to save the child's life?" Jean stared at her in speechless amazement, and Amélie perceiving his ignorance, breathed more freely. "Mademoiselle," he said at last, "I am neither a murderer nor a hypocrite." "Then why have you married me, wretch?" His eyes changed hue, resembling the sea water which beats against the Coast of Brittany emitting at night phosphoric light. "Because I love you, because I love you!" he cried, coming close to her, so close that she felt his breath. "Because my mistress told me that you were not as I had been told, a relative of the family. She said you were a peasant like myself, who had suffered misfortune and been abandoned by a scoundrel. Even knowing this," he concluded affectionately, "I loved you and was wild with happiness when she offered to marry us." "Vile calumniator!" hissed Amélie with flaming cheeks.