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Juliette's ultimate access of generosity in trying to save him, when she was at last brought face to face with the terrible wrong she had committed, that he put down to one of those noble impulses of which he knew her soul to be fully capable, and even then his own diffidence suggested that she did it more for the sake of his mother or for Anne Mie rather than for him.
He had brought Petronelle along with him: his careless, lavish hospitality would have suggested the housing of Juliette's entire domestic establishment, had she possessed one. As it was, the worthy old soul's deluge of happy tears had melted his kindly heart. He offered her and her young mistress shelter, until the small cloud should have rolled by. After that he suggested a journey to England.
Juliette, who looked as though she were crying, kissed her hand to him, calling out: "Adieu, adieu! cher ami," while he sought refuge in the Englishman's usual expedient of taking off his hat. "It is nothing, nothing," said the Pasteur, who had also noted Juliette's tear-swollen eyes, "to-morrow she will have Jules to console her, a most worthy young man, though me he bores."
The light from the petrol lamp shone full on Deroulede's earnest, dark countenance as he looked Juliette's infamous accuser full in the face, but the tallow candles, flickering weirdly on the President's desk, threw Tinville's short, spare figure and large, unkempt head into curious grotesque silhouette.
To procure money, I, I committed a crime, a crime; do you understand? They are pursuing me now. I must fly: will you follow me?" Juliette's eyes grew wide with astonishment; but she doubted Noel. "A crime? You?" she began. "Yes, me! Would you know the truth? I have committed murder, an assassination. But it was all for you."
"It is only Marie calling on the saints," was the answer, in Juliette's laughing voice.
She knew nothing, of course, of the Abbe Foucquet, but the tender little picture of the devoted old man, painted by Juliette's words, had appealed strongly to her sympathetic heart.
The poor woman, judging Mary by herself, had entreated the clergyman not to mention her name in case Mary would not come. Mary was affected to the heart when she heard Juliette's story, and she shed tears of sympathy with her old enemy. She assured her that she had forgiven her long ago, and that the only feeling she experienced was that of the deepest pity for her.
Never for a moment did she doubt Juliette's guilt. The god of love may be blind, tradidion has so decreed it, but the demon of jealousy has a hundred eyes, more keen than those of the lynx. Anne Mie, pushed aside by Merlin's men when they forced their way into Deroulede's study, had, nevertheless, followed them to the door.
When the hail ceased beating on it, Juliette pushed back the soaked canvas, which had covered them like a roof, and lifted her face to the cooler air. The boat was rushing through the water, and close to Juliette's cheek, just above the gunwale, rose a curved wave, green and white, and all shimmering with phosphorescence, which seemed to hover like a hawk above its prey.
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