imprudent word might ruin every thing? Why, also, should he excite new
hopes, when they must needs wait patiently till it should seem good to
M. Galpin to make an end to this melancholy suspense?

They heard very little nowadays of Jacques de Boiscoran. The
examinations took place only at long intervals; and it was sometimes
four or five days before Mechinet brought another letter.

"This is intolerable agony," repeated the marchioness over and over
again.

The end was, however, approaching.

Dionysia was alone one afternoon in the sitting-room, when she thought
she heard the clerk's voice in the hall. She went out at once and found
him there.

"Ah!" she cried, "the investigation is ended!" For she knew very well
that nothing less would have emboldened Mechinet to show himself openly
at their house.

"Yes, indeed, madam!" replied the good man; "and upon M. Galpin's own
order I bring you this letter from M. de Boiscoran."

She took it, read it at a single glance, and forgetting every thing,
half delirious with joy, she ran to her grandfather and M. Folgat,
calling upon a servant at the same time to run and fetch M. Magloire.

In less than an hour, the eminent advocate of Sauveterre arrived;
and when Jacques's letter had been handed to him, he said with some