"My dear son, I feel sure of being understood when I tell you that it is in the name of my tenderness and devotion for you that I implore you to treat M. David with the respectful deference due to his character and merits. That is all I ask. Affection and confidence are sure to come later. But if you do not treat him as you ought, I shall think, yes, I shall think that you have ceased to love me, Frederick. You make no reply. I understand why, my son. You think I am exaggerating, do you not, when I say that I shall think you have ceased to love me if you treat your new tutor rudely? But, my son, the coming of this new tutor means your salvation and mine, for I truly believe it will prove the beginning of a new era of hope and happiness for us both, and that being the case, you would not grieve and disappoint me by receiving M. David rudely, for no son who loved his mother would wish to make me miserable; so you see I do not exaggerate, after all, my child. But, Frederick, you turn away your head. You refuse to look at me. What I say about your having ceased to love me is true, then! You do not say so much as a word to reassure me, you who used to be so loving and affectionate. Why are you angry with me? What have I done?" "You feel better now, doubtless, since you have summoned a stranger to your aid, mother." "What else could I do? Be just, I beg of you. What am I to think when I see you utterly unmoved by all I say to you? Is it true that in a few brief months I have lost all influence over you, that my tears and entreaties are alike powerless to move you? And when I see only too plainly that this is the case, you are angry because I summon some one to my aid. Is it possible that you are no longer able to distinguish good from evil, that all that is good and generous and noble is dead within you? In that case my last hope has indeed fled. I must bring myself face to face with the hideous reality, and as you force me, absolutely force me, to do it," added Marie, in a voice almost inaudible from horror, "I must remind you of that horrible scene, the other night, in the forest--in the forest--when you--when you tried--tried to kill--in the most cowardly manner-- Oh, my God! my son, _my son_, an _assassin_!" The last word was accompanied with such an outburst of despairing sobs that Frederick turned pale and trembled from head to foot. On hearing the word "assassin" applied to him by his own mother, Frederick realised for the first time the enormity of the crime he had tried to commit, and noticing her son's gloomy silence, and the expression of profound despair that had succeeded his strained and sarcastic smile, Madame Bastien asked herself, with increasing anxiety, whether the result of this cruel scene would be disastrous or salutary for Frederick; but just then Marguerite entered hurriedly, and said to her mistress: "The doctor has just arrived with another gentleman, madame. They wish to see you."