you think me a selfish
old woman; but my Angele--she is an angel, of a truth!--made all the
arrangements, and I could not help but obey her. But have no fears for
her safety, Monsieur. My son would not dare lay hands on her as often
as he has done on me. Angele will be brave, and our relations at St.
Claude will, directly we arrive, make arrangements to go and fetch her
and bring her back to me. My brother is an influential man; he would
never have allowed my son to martyrize me and Angele had he known what
we have had to endure."

Of course I could not then tell her that all her fears for herself and
the lovely Angele could now be laid to rest. Her ruffianly son was
even now being conveyed by Leroux and his gendarmes to the frontier,
where the law would take its course. I was indeed not sorry for him. I
was not sorry to think that he would end his evil life upon the
guillotine or the gallows. I was only grieved for Angele who would
spend a night and a day, perhaps more, in agonized suspense, knowing
nothing of the events which at one great swoop would free her and her
beloved mother from the tyranny of a hated brother and send him to
expiate his crimes. Not only did I grieve, Sir, for the tender victim
of that man's brutality, but I trembled for her safety. I did not know
what minions or confederates Fournier-Berty had left in the lonely
house yonder, or under what orders they were in case he did not return
from his nocturnal expedition.

Indeed for the moment I felt so agitated at thought of that beautiful
angel's peril that I looked down with anger and scorn at the fat old
woman who ought to have remained beside her daughter to comfort and to
shield her.

I was on the point of telling her everything, and dragging her back to
her post of duty which she should never have relinquished. Fortunately
my sense of what I owed to my own professional dignity prevented my
taking such a step. It was clearly not for me to argue. My first duty
was to stand by this helpless woman in distress, who had been
committed to my charge, and to convey her safely to St. Claude. After
which I could see to it that Mademoiselle Angele was brought along too
as quickly as influential relatives could contrive.

In the meanwhile I derived some consolation from the thought that at
any rate for the next four and twenty hours the lovely creature would
be safe. No news of the arrest of Aristide Fournier could possibly
reach the lonely house until