"Your very humble servant, "FREDERICK BASTIEN." "Well, my child," said David, earnestly, "you nobly confess a wicked intention that you have paid for at the peril of your life." "When I think of this rehabilitation and of all that has just occurred," said Marie, with profound emotion, "when I realise that it is all your work, M. David, and that fifteen days ago my son was killing himself--his heart consumed with hatred--" "And yet you do not know all, mother," interrupted Frederick, "no, you do not know all that I owe to this good genius who has come to change our grief to joy." "What do you mean, my child?" "Frederick!" added David, with a tone of reproach, suspecting the intention of Madame Bastien's son. "My friend, to-day is the day of confessions, and, besides, I see my mother so happy that--" Then, interrupting himself, he asked: "You are happy, are you not, mother?" Marie replied by embracing her son with ecstasy. "So you see, my friend, my mother is so happy that a danger past cannot give her cause for sorrow, especially when she will have one reason more for loving you and blessing you." "Frederick, once again I beseech you--" "My friend, the only reason which has made me conceal this secret from my mother was the fear of distressing her." "I beg you, dear child, explain yourself," cried Marie. "Ah, well, mother, those farewells at night, you remember?--it was not a dream." "Why, did you really come to me that dreadful night?" "Yes, to bid you farewell." "My God! and where were you going?" "I was going to kill myself." Marie uttered a shriek of fright, and turned pale. "Frederick," said David, "you see what imprudence--" "No, no, M. David," interrupted the young woman, trying to smile. "It is I who am absurdly weak. Have I not my son here in my arms, on my heart?" As she said these words, Marie pressed her son in her arms, as they sat together on the sofa; then kissing him on the forehead, she added, in a trembling voice: "Oh, I have you in my arms. Now I have no more fear, I can hear all." "Well, mother, devoured by envy, and more than that, pursued by remorse, which always awakened at the sound of your voice, I wanted to kill myself. I went out with M. David, I escaped from him. He succeeded in finding my tracks. I had run to the Loire, and when he arrived--" "Ah! unhappy child!" cried Marie, "but for him you would have drowned!" "Yes, and when I was about to drown I called you, mother, as one calls for help. He heard my cries, and threw himself in the Loire, and--" Frederick was interrupted by Marguerite. The old servant this time did not present herself smiling and triumphant, but timid and alarmed, as she whispered to her mistress, as if she were announcing some fatal news: "Madame, madame, monsieur has come!" CHAPTER XXXIII.