"For what?" he said with a smile. "I was neither the letter nor the ship that brought him back. _Allons_, it appears to me it is monsieur the cure of Ardron whom you will have to thank the most." She shook her head without answering. She was not deceived. If ever friend was faithful to his friendship, it was this friend. Neither of them spoke for a moment, then Therese said slowly,--"I shall understand every thing better by and by, I think. I fancy there are things which neither of us understand as yet. That poor woman--!" she added, sighing. "So the poor little one is dead!" "It is not that only--I mean that is not the worst," she said in answer to his look. "Her sorrow is so dreadful to see. I have asked her to hear Pere Gaspard, but she will not let him come into the room. I wonder whether Sister Gabrielle could do any thing! I wonder what it is! She says such terrible things." M. Deshoulieres was too generous-hearted to suspect readily, but that night he had been perplexed by thoughts of little Roulleau, suggested in the interview at Maury. "I must see her husband," he said. "Is he with her, or shall I find him in the bureau?" "Did you not know?" asked Therese in surprise. "He is not here. He went away again at once when he heard of the fever. The little coward!" "Went away!" "But yes, indeed. To Tours, she supposes. I think that is one of the things that has half killed her." M. Deshoulieres' face became more grave. This flight of the little notary added considerably to the difficulties of his position. He remembered also that Ignace had heard his tidings of M. Saint-Martin's arrival. Therese, who saw this cloud, asked at once, "What is it?" "I do not like his absence at this time, and I want the papers connected with M. Moreau's will. Will you wait here for a moment while I speak to the clerk?" He came back again presently, shaking his head. "We can go no further than the outside of the chest; Madame Roulleau has the keys, and I am afraid you must make an effort to get them. It is really a matter of extreme importance, or I would not ask you to undertake such a task," he added abruptly. Therese turned a little pale. "Does it not seem cruel?" "I cannot help it. It is necessary. Would you rather that I saw her?" "No, no. I will try, but I dread it." She was absent so long that he had risen to follow her, when she came into the room again, white and trembling. "No, I have done nothing," she said, in answer to his look. "She only rocks herself backwards and forwards on the ground. She never looked up--I do not know whether she heard me; but yet she must have, for when I came away at last, I heard her spring up and bolt the door. Nannon is out, and there she is quite alone. It cannot matter so greatly. Fabien can wait for his papers another day--" A shade that unconsciously crossed his face made her cry out quickly, "They will trust you unreservedly!"