by her bed and praying. It was Thursday. Gabriel and Jean had been
brought from school by Emmanuel de Solis, who for the last six months
was professor of history and philosophy.
"Dear children, we must part!" she cried. "You have never forsaken me,
never! and he who--"
She stopped.
"Monsieur Emmanuel," said Marguerite, seeing the pallor on her mother's
face, "go to my father, and tell him mamma is worse."
Young de Solis went to the door of the laboratory and persuaded
Lemulquinier to make Balthazar come and speak to him. On hearing of the
urgent request of the young man, Claes answered, "I will come."
"Emmanuel," said Madame Claes when he returned to her, "take my
sons away, and bring your uncle here. It is time to give me the last
sacraments, and I wish to receive them from his hand."
When she was alone with her daughters she made a sign to Marguerite, who
understood her and sent Felicie away.
"I have something to say to you myself, dear mamma," said Marguerite
who, not believing her mother so ill as she really was, increased
the wound Pierquin had given. "I have had no money for the household
expenses during the last ten days; I owe six months' wages to the
servants. Twice I have tried to ask my father for money, but did not
dare to do so. You don't know, perhaps, that all the pictures in the
gallery have been sold, and all the wines in the cellar?"
"He never told me!" exclaimed Madame Claes. "My God! thou callest me to
thyself in time! My poor children! what will become of them?"
She made a fervent prayer, which brought the fires of repentance to her
eyes.
"Marguerite," she resumed, drawing the letter from her pillow, "here is
a paper which you must not open or read until a time, after my death,
when some great disaster has overtaken you; when, in short, you are
without the means of living. My dear Marguerite, love your father, but
take care of your brothers and your sister. In a few days, in a few
hours perhaps, you will be the head of this household. Be economical.
Should you find yourself opposed to the wishes of your father,--and it
may so happen, because he has spent vast sums in searching for a secret
whose discovery is to bring glory and wealth to his family, and he will
no doubt need money, perhaps he may demand it of you,--should that time
come, treat him with the tenderness of a daughter, strive to reconcile
the interests of which you will be the sole protector with the duty
which you
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