wretched, wretched girl!" exclaimed Louise, falling on her knees.
"What! in the name of the law?" said the artisan, whose reason, severely shaken by this fresh blow, began to totter. "Why apprehend my daughter in the name of the law? I will answer for Louise, I will, – this my child, my good child, ain't you, Louise? What! apprehend you, when our good angel has restored you to us to console us for the death of our poor, dear little Adèle? Come, come, this can't be. And then, to speak respectfully, M. le Commissaire, they apprehend none but the bad, you know; and my Louise is not bad. So you see, my dear, the good gentleman is mistaken. My name is Morel, but there are other Morels; you are Louise, but there are other Louises; so you see, M. le Commissaire, there is a mistake, certainly some mistake!"
"Unhappily there is no mistake. Louise Morel, take leave of your father!"
"What! are you going to take my daughter away?" exclaimed the workman, furious with grief, and advancing towards the magistrate with a menacing air.
Rodolph seized the lapidary by the arm, and said to him:
"Be calm, and hope for the best; your daughter will be restored to you; her innocence must be proved; she cannot be guilty."
"Guilty of what? She is not guilty of anything. I will put my hand in the fire if – " Then, remembering the gold which Louise had brought to pay the bill with, Morel cried, "But the money – that money you had this morning, Louise!" And he gave his daughter a terrible look.
Louise understood it.
"I rob!" she exclaimed; and her cheeks suffused with generous indignation, her tone and gesture, reassured her father.
"I knew it well enough!" he exclaimed. "You see, M. le Commissaire, she denies it; and I swear to you, that she never told me a lie in her life; and everybody that knows her will say the same thing as I do. She lie! Oh, no, she is too proud to do that! And, then, the bill has been paid by our benefactor. The gold she does not wish to keep, but will return it to the person who lent it to her, desiring him not to tell any one; won't you, Louise?"
"Your daughter is not accused of theft," said the magistrate.
"Well, then, what is the charge against her? I, her father, swear to you that she is innocent of whatever crime they may accuse her of, and I never told a lie in my life either."
"Why should you know what she is charged with?" said Rodolph, moved by his distress. "Louise's innocence will be proved; the person who takes so great an interest in you will protect your daughter. Come, come! Courage, courage! This time Providence will not forsake you. Embrace your daughter, and you will soon see her again."
"M. le Commissaire," cried Morel, not attending to Rodolph, "you are going to deprive a father of his daughter without even naming the crime of which she is accused! Let me know all! Louise, why don't you speak?"
"Your daughter is accused of child-murder," said the magistrate.
"I – I – I – child-mur – I don't – you – "
And Morel, aghast, stammered incoherently.
"Your daughter is accused of having killed her child," said the commissary, deeply touched at this scene; "but it is not yet proved that she has committed this crime."
"Oh, no, I have not, sir! I have not!" exclaimed Louise, energetically, and rising; "I swear to you that it was dead. It never breathed, – it was cold. I lost my senses, – this is my crime. But kill my child! Oh, never, never!"
"Your child, abandoned girl!" cried Morel, raising his hands towards Louise, as if he would annihilate her by this gesture and imprecation.
"Pardon, father, pardon!" she exclaimed.
After a moment's fearful silence, Morel resumed, with a calm that was even more frightful:
"M. le Commissaire, take away that creature; she is not my child!"
The lapidary turned to leave the room; but Louise threw herself at his knees, around which she clung with both arms; and, with her head thrown back, distracted and supplicating, she exclaimed:
"Father, hear me! Only hear me!"
"M. le Commissaire, away with her, I beseech you! I leave her to you," said the lapidary, struggling to free himself from Louise's embrace.
"Listen to her," said Rodolph, holding him; "do not be so pitiless."
"To her! To her!" repeated Morel, lifting his two hands to his forehead, "to a dishonoured wretch! A wanton! Oh, a wanton!"
"But, if she were dishonoured through her efforts to save you?" said Rodolph to him in a low voice.
These words made a sudden and painful impression on Morel, and he cast his eyes on his weeping child still on her knees before him; then, with a searching look, impossible to describe, he cried in a hollow voice, clenching his teeth with rage:
"The notary?"
An answer came to Louise's lips. She was about to speak, but paused, – no doubt a reflection, – and, bending down her head, remained silent.
"No, no; he sought to imprison me this morning!" continued Morel, with a violent burst. "Can it be he? Ah, so much the better, so much the better! She has not even an excuse for her crime; she never thought of me in her dishonour, and I may curse her without remorse."
"No, no; do not curse me, my father! I will tell you all, – to you alone, and you will see – you will see whether or not I deserve your forgiveness."
"For pity's sake, hear her!" said Rodolph to him.
"What will she tell me, – her infamy? That will soon be public, and I can wait till then."
"Sir," said Louise, addressing the magistrate, "for pity's sake, leave me alone with my father, that I may say a few words to him before I leave him, perhaps for ever; and before you, also, our benefactor, I will speak; but only before you and my father."
"Be it so," said the magistrate.
"Will you be pitiless, and refuse this last consolation to your child?" asked Rodolph of Morel. "If you think you owe me any gratitude for the kindness which I have been enabled to show you, consent to your daughter's entreaties."
After a moment's sad and angry silence, Morel replied:
"I will."
"But where shall we go!" inquired Rodolph; "your family are in the other room."
"Where shall we go," exclaimed the lapidary, with a bitter irony, "where shall we go? Up above, – up above, into the garret, by the side of the body of my dead daughter; that spot will well suit a confession, will it not? Come along, come, and we will see if Louise will dare to tell a lie in the presence of her sister's corpse. Come! Come along!"
And Morel went out hastily with a wild air, and turning his face from Louise.
"Sir," said the commissary to Rodolph, in an undertone, "I beg you for this poor man's sake not to protract this conversation. You were right when you said his reason was touched; just now his look was that of a madman."
"Alas, sir, I am equally fearful with yourself of some fresh and terrible disaster! I will abridge as much as I can this most painful farewell."
And
