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She was thus leading a happy life, free from all care, and was just seventeen years old, when the great event of her life took place. M. de Chandore one morning met Jacques de Boiscoran, whose uncle had been a friend of his, and invited him to dinner. Jacques accepted the invitation, and came. Dionysia saw him, and loved him.
He had already given orders to have his uniform gotten ready, when the servant announced visitors, M. de Chandore and friend. "That was all that was wanting!" he exclaimed But, thinking it over, he added, "Well, it had to come sooner or later. Show them in!" M. Seneschal was too good to be so troubled in advance, and to prepare himself for a heart-rending scene.
The example of great people like M. de Chandore and Jacques's uncle had brought many a peasant on business into M. Seneschal's office; and when he was, at a later period of his life, attacked by the fever of political ambition, and offered to "sacrifice himself for his country" by becoming mayor of Sauveterre, and a member of the general council, their support had been of great service to him.
"Take it, madam. If I want money for Blangin, or for Trumence, I will ask you for it. And now you must go: you need not go in to my sisters. I will explain your visit to them." "What can have happened to Dionysia, that she does not come back?" murmured Grandpapa Chandore, as he walked up and down the Square, and looked, for the twentieth time, at his watch.
I shall, however, be happy to call upon you soon, on my son's arm." The house of the Chandore family stands on the other side of the New-Market Place, at the very top of the street, which is hardly more than a line of steps, which the mayor persistently calls upon the municipal council to grade, and which the latter as persistently refuse to improve.
When thus formally introduced, M. Folgat bowed, and said, "I am all hope. But I think with Miss Chandore, that we must go to work without losing a second. Before I can decide, however, upon what is to be done, I must know all the facts." "Unfortunately we know nothing," replied M. de Chandore, "nothing, except that Jacques is kept in close confinement." "Well, then, we must try to find out.
"And this is what brings me here," he cried, still in the door; "for this opinion, if it is not put into proper order, will deprive M. de Boiscoran of his best and surest chance of escape." After what Dionysia had told them, neither M. de Chandore nor M. Folgat attached much importance to the state of Cocoleu's mind: still this word "escape" attracted their attention.
It is known already that the sentence is void, and they are delighted. My sisters have just told me that the ladies in good society propose to give to the Marchioness de Boiscoran and to Miss Chandore some public evidence of their sympathy. The members of the bar will give M. Folgat a public dinner." "Why that is monstrous!" cried M. Galpin.
We have cried enough: now let us act!" Then, turning to the marchioness, she said, "And my dear mother, I sent for you, because we want you to help us in this great work." "And here I am," replied the old lady, "not less certain of my son's innocence than you are." Evidently M. de Chandore had been hoping for something more; for he interrupted her, asking, "And the marquis?"
"If you lose your place, M. Blangin, I, Dionysia de Chandore, promise you another place twice as good." "Madame!" "You do not doubt my word, M. Blangin, do you?" "God forbid, madam! But it is not my place only. If I did what you want me to do, I should be severely punished." The marchioness judged from the jailer's tone that Dionysia was not likely to prevail over him, and so she said,
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