IX.

  For some little time there had been a noise of footsteps and a subduedmurmur of voices in the vestibule. Annoyed by this interruption,although he perfectly understood its cause, the magistrate rose andhastily opened the door. He was not mistaken. His clerk had returnedfrom lunch, and the time of waiting seemed extremely long to him. "Ah!it's you," said the magistrate. "Very well! begin your inventory. Itwon't be long before I join you." And closing the door he resumed hisseat again. Mademoiselle Marguerite was so absorbed in her narrativethat she scarcely noticed this incident, and he had not seated himselfbefore she resumed. "In all my life, I had never seen such an imposinglooking person as the Count de Chalusse. His manner, attire, andfeatures could not fail to inspire a child like me with fear andrespect. I was so awed that I had scarcely enough presence of mind tobow to him. He glanced at me coldly, and exclaimed: 'Ah! is thisthe young girl you were speaking of?' The count's tone betrayed suchdisagreeable surprise that the superior was dismayed. She looked at me,and seemed indignant at my more than modest attire. 'It's a shameto allow a child to leave home dressed in this fashion,' she angrilyexclaimed. And she almost tore my huge apron off me, and then withher own hands began to arrange my hair as if to display me to betteradvantage. 'Ah! these employers,' she exclaimed, 'the best of them arebad. How they do deceive you. It's impossible to place any confidence intheir promises. Still, one can't always be at their heels.'

  "But the superior's efforts were wasted, for M. de Chalusse had turnedaway and had begun talking with some gentlemen near by. For the officewas full that morning. Five or six gentlemen, whom I recognized as thedirectors of the asylum, were standing round the steward in the blackskullcap. They were evidently talking about me. I was certain of this bythe glances they gave me, glances which, however, were full of kindness.The superior joined the group and began speaking with unusual vivacity,while standing in the recess of a window, I listened with all my might.But I must have overestimated my intelligence, for I could gain nomeaning whatever from the phrases which followed each other in rapidsuccession; though the words 'adoption,' 'emancipation,' 'dowry,''compensation,' 'reimbursement for sums expended,' recurred again andagain. I was only certain of one point: the Count de Chalusse wishedsomething, and these gentlemen were specifying other things in exchange.To each of their demands he answered: 'Yes, yes--it's granted. That'sunderstood.' But at last he began to grow impatient, and in a voicewhich impressed one with the idea that he was accustomed to command, heexclaimed, 'I will do whatever you wish. Do you desire anything more?'The gentlemen at once became silent, and the superior hastily declaredthat M. de Chalusse was a thousand times too good, but that one couldexpect no less of him, the last representative of one of the greatestand oldest families of France.

  "I cannot describe the surprise and indignation that were raging in mysoul. I divined--I felt that it was MY fate, MY future, MY life thatwere being decided, and I was not even consulted on the matter. Theywere disposing of me as if they were sure in advance of my consent. Mypride revolted at the thought, but I could not find a word to say inprotest. Crimson with shame, confused and furious, I was wondering how Icould interfere, when suddenly the consultation ceased and the gentlemenat once surrounded me. One of them, a little old man with a vapid smileand twinkling eyes, tapped me on the cheek, and said: 'So she is as goodas she is pretty!' I could have struck him; but all the others laughedapprovingly, with the exception of M. de Chalusse, whose manner becamemore and more frigid, and whose lips wore a constrained smile, as if hehad resolved to keep his temper despite all provocation. It seemed to methat he was suffering terribly, and I afterward learned that I had notbeen mistaken. Far from imitating the old gentleman's manner, he bowedto me very gravely, with an air of deference that quite abashed me, andwent away after saying that he would return the next day to conclude thearrangements.

  "I was at last left alone with the superior, whom I longed to question,but she gave me no time to do so, for with extreme volubility she beganto tell me of my surprising good fortune, which was an unanswerableand conclusive proof of the kindness and protection of Providence. 'Thecount,' she said, 'was to become my guardian. He would certainly give mea dowry; and by and by, if I were grateful to him for his goodness, hewould adopt me, a poor, fatherless and motherless girl, and I shouldbear the great name of Durtal de Chalusse, and inherit an immensefortune.' In conclusion, she said that there was no limit to the count'sgenerosity, that he had consented to reimburse the asylum the money thathad been spent on me, that he had offered to dower, I do not know howmany poor girls, and that he had promised to build a chapel for the useof the establishment. This was all true, incredible as it might seem.That very morning, M. de Chalusse had called at the asylum, declaredthat he was old and childless, a bachelor without any near relatives,and that he wished to adopt a poor orphan. They had given him a listof all the children in the institution, and he had chosen me. 'A merechance, my dear Marguerite,' repeated the superior. 'A mere chance--orrather a true miracle.' It did, indeed, seem a miracle, but I was moresurprised than elated. I longed to be alone, so as to deliberate andreflect, for I knew that I was free to accept or decline this dazzlingoffer.

  "I timidly asked permission to return to my employers to inform them ofwhat had happened and consult with them; but my request was refused. Thesuperior told me that I must deliberate and decide alone; and that whenonce my decision was taken, there could be no change. So I remained atthe asylum, and dined at the superior's table; and during the night Ioccupied the room of a sister who was absent. What surprised me most ofall was the deference with which I was treated. The sisters all seemedto consider me a person of great importance. And yet I hesitated.

  "My indecision may seem absurd and hypocritical; but it was reallysincere. My present situation was certainly by no means an enviable one.But the worst was over; my term as an apprentice had nearly expired, andmy future seemed assured. My future! What could it be with the Count deChalusse? It was painted in such brilliant colors that it frightened me.Why had the count chosen me in preference to any of the other girls? Wasit really chance which had decided him in his choice? On reflecting,the miracle seemed to me to have been prepared in advance, and I fanciedthat it must conceal some mystery. More than this, the thought ofyielding myself up to a stranger terrified me. Forty-eight hours hadbeen granted me to consider my decision, and till the very last instantI remained in doubt. Who knows? Perhaps it would have been better for meif I had returned to my humble life. At all events, I should have beenspared a great deal of sorrow and humiliation. But I lacked the courage;and when the time expired, I consented to the new arrangement.

  "Should I live a thousand years I shall never forget the day I leftthe foundling asylum to become the Count de Chalusse's ward. It wasa Saturday, and I had given my answer to the superior on the eveningbefore. The next morning I received a visit from my former employers,who, having been informed of the great change in my prospects, had cometo bid me good-bye. The cancelling of my apprenticeship had at firstcaused some trouble, but eventually the count's gold silenced theirobjections. Still, they were sorry to part with me, as I plainly saw.Their eyes were moist with tears. They were sorry to lose the poorlittle servant who had served them so faithfully. At the same time,however, I noticed evident constraint in their manner. They no longersaid 'thee' and 'thou' to me; they no longer spoke roughly; but theysaid 'you,' and addressed me as 'mademoiselle.' Poor people! theyawkwardly apologized for having ventured to accept my services,declaring in the same breath that they should never be able to replaceme at the same price. Madame Greloux, moreover, declared that she shouldnever forgive herself for not having sharply reproved her brother forhis abominable conduct. He was a good-for-nothing fellow, she said, aswas proved by the fact that he had dared to raise his eyes to me. Forthe first time in my life, I felt that I was sincerely loved; and I wasso deeply touched that if my decision had not been written and signed, Ishould certainly have returned to live with these worthy people. But itwas too l
ate. A sister came to tell me that the superior wished to seeme. I bade Father and Mother Greloux farewell and went downstairs.

  "In the superior's room, a lady and two shop-girls, laden with boxes andparcels, were waiting for me. It was a dressmaker who had come with someclothes suited to my new station in life. I was told that she hadbeen sent by the Count de Chalusse. This great nobleman thought ofeverything; and, although he had thirty servants to do his bidding, henever disdained to occupy himself with the pettiest details. So, forthe first time, I was arrayed in rustling silk and clinging cashmere.My toilette was no trifling affair. All the good sisters clustered roundme, and tried to beautify me with the same care and patience as theywould have displayed in adorning the Virgin's statue for a fete-day. Asecret instinct warned me that they were overdoing the matter, and thatthey were making me look ridiculous; but I did not mind. I allowed themto please themselves I could still feel Madame Greloux's tears on myhand, and the scene seemed to me as lugubrious as the last toilette of aprisoner under sentence of death. When they had completed their task,I heard a buzz of admiration round me. If the sisters were worthy ofbelief, they had never seen such a wonderful transformation. Those whowere in the class-rooms or the sewing-room, were summoned to view andadmire me, and some of the elder children were also admitted. Perhaps Iwas intended as an example for the latter, for I heard the lady superiorsay to them, 'You see, my dear children, the result of good behavior. Bediligent and dutiful, like our dear Marguerite, and God will rewardyou as He has rewarded her.' And, meantime, miserable in my finery, Iwaited--waited for M. de Chalusse, who was coming to take me away.

  "At the appointed hour he appeared, with the same air of haughtyreserve, that had so awed me on the occasion of our first meeting. Hescarcely deigned to look at me, and although I watched him with poignantanxiety, I could read neither blame nor approval on his face. 'You seethat your wishes have been scrupulously obeyed, Monsieur le Comte,' saidthe superior. 'I thank you,' he replied; 'and I shall prove the extentof my gratitude to the poor children under your charge.' Then, turningto me: 'Marguerite,' he said, 'take leave of--your mothers, and tellthem that you will never forget their kindness.'"

  The girl paused, for her emotion had rendered her words almostunintelligible. But, with an effort, she speedily conquered herweakness.

  "It was only then," she continued, "that I realized how much I lovedthese poor nuns, whom I had sometimes almost cursed. I felt now howclose the ties were, that bound me to this hospitable roof, and to theseunfortunate children, my companions in misery and loneliness. It seemedto me as if my heart were breaking; and the superior, who was generallyso impassible, appeared scarcely less moved than myself. At last, M. deChalusse took me by the hand and led me away. In the street there was acarriage waiting for us, not such a beautiful one as that which had beensent to fetch me from my workshop, but a much larger one, with trunksand boxes piled on its roof. It was drawn by four gray horses. I feltmore dead than alive, as I entered the carriage and took the seat whichthe count pointed out. He sat down opposite to me. All the sisters hadassembled at the door of the asylum, and even the superior wept withoutmaking any attempt to hide her tears. 'Farewell!' they all cried;'farewell, farewell, dear child! Don't forget your old friends. We shallpray for your happiness.' Alas! God could not have heard their prayers.At a sign from M. de Chalusse, a footman closed the door, the postilionscracked their whips, and the heavy vehicle rolled away.

  "The die was cast. Henceforth, an impassable gulf was to separate mefrom this asylum, whither I had been carried in my infancy half dead,and wrapped in swaddling clothes, from which every mark that couldpossibly lead to identification had been carefully cut away. Whatever myfuture might prove, I felt that my past was gone forever. But I wastoo greatly agitated even to think; and crouching in a corner of thecarriage, I watched M. de Chalusse with the poignant anxiety a slavedisplays as he studies his new master. Ah! monsieur, what a wondrouschange! A mask seemed to have fallen from the count's face; his lipsquivered, a tender light beamed in his eyes, and he drew me to him,exclaiming: 'Oh, Marguerite! my beloved Marguerite! At last--at last!'He sobbed--this old man, whom I had thought as cold and as insensible asmarble; he crushed me in his close embrace, he almost smothered mewith kisses. And I was frightfully agitated by the strange, indefinablefeeling, kindled in my heart; but I no longer trembled with fear.An inward voice whispered that this was but the renewal of a formertie--one which had somehow been mysteriously broken. However, as Iremembered the superior's assertion that it was a miracle in my favor--awonderful interposition of Providence, I had courage enough to ask: 'Soit was not chance that guided you in your choice?'

  "My question seemed to take him by surprise. 'Poor Marguerite!' hemurmured, 'dearly beloved child! for years I have been laboring to bringabout this chance!' Instantly all the romantic stories I had heard inthe asylum recurred to my mind. And Heaven knows there are plenty ofthese stories transmitted by the sisters from generation to generation,till they have become a sort of Golden Legend for poor foundlings. Thatsad formula, 'Father and mother unknown,' which figures on certificatesof birth, acts as a dangerous stimulant for unhealthy imaginations, andleaves an open door for the most extravagant hopes. And thus influenced,I fixed my eyes on the face of the Count de Chalusse, striving todiscover some resemblance in his features to my own. But he did notseem to notice my intent gaze, and following his train of thought, hemuttered: 'Chance! It was necessary that they should think so, andthey did think so. And yet the cleverest detectives in Paris, from oldTabaret to Fortunat, both masters in the art of following up a clue, hadexhausted their resources in helping me in my despairing search.' Theagony of suspense I was enduring had become intolerable; and unableto restrain myself longer, I exclaimed, with a wildly throbbing heart:'Then, you are my father, Monsieur le Comte?' He pressed his hand to mylips with such violence that he hurt me, and then, in a voice quiveringwith excitement, he replied: 'Imprudent girl! What can you mean?Forget that unfortunate idea. Never utter the name of father--you hearme--never! I forbid it!' He had become extremely pale, and he lookedanxiously around him, as if he feared that some one had overheard me--asif he had forgotten that we were alone in a carriage which was dashingonward at full speed!

  "I was stupefied and alarmed by the sudden terror which M. de Chalussehad displayed and could not control. What could it all mean? Whatsorrowful recollections, what mysterious apprehensions, had my wordsaroused in the count's mind? I could not understand or imagine why heshould regard my question as strange or unnatural. On the contrary, Ithought it perfectly natural, dictated as it had been by circumstances,and by the count's own words and manner. And, in spite of my confusionand agitation, the inexplicable voice which we call presentimentwhispered in my heart: 'He has forbidden you to CALL him father, buthe has not said that he is not your father.' However, I had not time toreflect or to question M. de Chalusse any more, though at that moment Ishould have had the courage to do so; afterward I did not dare.

  "Our carriage had drawn up outside the railway station, and the nextinstant we alighted. Then, for the first time, I learned the magicalpower of money, I, a poor girl--reared by public charity--and who forthree years had worked for my daily bread. M. de Chalusse found theservants, who were to accompany us, awaiting him. They had thought ofeverything, and made every possible arrangement for our comfort. I hadscarcely time to glance round me before we were on the platform in frontof a train, which was ready to start. I perceived the very carriage thathad brought us to the station already fastened on a low open truck, andI was advancing to climb into it, when M. de Chalusse stopped me. 'Notthere,' said he, 'come with me.' I followed him, and he led me to amagnificent saloon carriage, much higher and roomier than the others,and emblazoned with the Chalusse coat-of-arms. 'This is our carriage,dear Marguerite, he said. I got in. The whistle sounded; and the trainstarted off."

  Mademoiselle Marguerite was growing very tired. Big drops ofperspiration stood out on her forehead, she panted for breath, and hervoi
ce began to fail her.

  The magistrate was almost frightened. "Pray rest a little,mademoiselle," he entreated, "there is no hurry."

  But she shook her head and replied: "It is better to go on. I shouldnever have courage to begin again if I paused." And thereupon shecontinued: "I had never gone farther than Versailles. This journey wasat first as delightful as a glimpse into fairy-land. Our carriagewas one of those costly whims which some millionaires indulge in. Itconsisted of a central saloon--a perfect chef-d'oeuvre of taste andluxury--with two compartments at either end, furnished with comfortablesleeping accommodation. And all this, the count seemed never weary ofrepeating, was mine--mine alone. Leaning back on the velvet cushions, Igazed at the changing landscape, as the train rushed madly on. Leaningover me, M. de Chalusse named all the towns and villages we passed:Brunoy, Melun, Fontainebleau, Villeneuve, Sens, Laroche. And each timethe train stopped the servants came to ask if we wished for anything.When we reached Lyons, in the middle of the night, we found a delicioussupper awaiting us. It was served as soon as we alighted, and in duetime we were warned that the train was ready to start, and then weresumed our journey. You can imagine, perhaps, how marvellous all thisseemed to a poor little apprentice, whose only ambition a week beforewas to earn five francs a day. What a change indeed! At last the countmade me retire to one of the compartments, where I soon fell asleep,abandoning my efforts to distinguish what was dreamlike in my situationfrom reality. However, when I woke up I became terribly anxious. Iasked myself what was awaiting me at the end of this long journey. M.de Chalusse's manner continued kind, and even affectionate; but he hadregained his accustomed reserve and self-control, and I realized thatit would be useless on my part to question him. At last, after a thirtyhours' journey by rail, we again entered the count's berline, drawnby post-horses, and eventually M. de Chalusse said to me: 'Here isCannes--we are at our journey's end.'

  "In this town, which is one of the most charming that overlook the bluewaters of the Mediterranean, the count owned a palace embowered amonglovely orange-trees, only a few steps from the sea, and in full view ofthe myrtle and laurel groves which deck the isles of Sainte Marguerite.He told me that he proposed spending a few months here in seclusion, soas to give me time to accustom myself to my new position and the luxurythat surrounded me. I was, indeed, extremely awkward, and my excessivetimidity was increased by my pride. I did not know what to say, or whatto do. I did not know how to use my hands, nor how to walk, nor howto carry myself. Everything embarrassed and frightened me; and I wasconscious of my awkwardness, without being able to remedy it. I saw myblunders, and knew that I spoke a different language to that which wasspoken around me. And yet the memory of Cannes will ever be dear to me.For there I first met the only friend I have now left in this world. Idid not exchange a word with him, but by the quickened throbbings ofmy heart, when our eyes met, I felt that he would exert a powerfulinfluence over my life, and events have since proved that I was notdeceived. At that time, however, he was a stranger to me; and nothingon earth would have induced me to make inquiries concerning him. Itwas only by chance I learned that he lived in Paris, that his name wasPascal, and that he had come south as a companion to a sick friend.

  "By a single word the count could have insured the happiness of mylife and his own, but he did not speak it. He was the kindest andmost indulgent of guardians, and I was often affected to tears by histenderness. But, although my slightest wish was law, he did not grant mehis confidence. The secret--the mystery that stood between us--was likea wall of ice. Still, I was gradually becoming accustomed to my newlife, and my mind was regaining its equilibrium, when one evening thecount returned home more agitated and excited, if possible, than on theday of my departure from the asylum. He summoned his valet, and, in atone that admitted no reply, he exclaimed, 'I wish to leave Cannes atonce--I must start in less than an hour--so procure some post-horsesinstantly.' And in answer to my inquiring glance, he said: 'It mustbe. It would be folly to hesitate. Each moment increases the peril thatthreatens us.'

  "I was very young, inexperienced, and totally ignorant of life; but mysufferings, my loneliness, and the prospect of being compelled to relyupon myself, had imparted to my mind that precocious maturity which isso often observed among the children of the poor. Knowing from the veryfirst that there was some mystery connected with the count's life, I hadstudied him with a child's patient sagacity--a sagacity which is all themore dangerous, as it is unsuspected--and I had come to the conclusionthat a constant dread rendered his life a burden. Could it be forhimself that he trembled, this great nobleman, who was so powerful byreason of his exalted rank, his connections, and his wealth? Certainlynot. Was it for me, then? Undoubtedly it was. But why? It had not takenme long to discover that he was concealing me, or, at least, that heendeavored by all means in his power to prevent my presence in his housefrom being known beyond a very limited circle of friends. Our hurrieddeparture from Cannes confirmed me in my impression.

  "It might have been truly called a flight. We left that same evening ateleven o'clock, in a pouring rain, with the first horses that could beprocured. Our only attendant was the count's valet--not Casimir, the manwho insulted me a little while ago--but another man, an old and valuedservant, who has since died, unfortunately, and who possessed hismaster's entire confidence. The other servants were dismissed with aprincely gratuity, and told to disperse two days after our departure. Wedid not return to Paris, but journeyed toward the Italian frontier, andon arriving at Nice in the dead of night, we drove directly to the quay.The postilions unharnessed the horses, and we remained in the carriage.The valet, however, hastened off, and more than two hours elapsed beforehe returned. He declared that he had found it very difficult to procurewhat he wished for, but that at last, by a prodigal outlay of money, hehad succeeded in overcoming all obstacles. What M. de Chalusse desiredwas a vessel ready for sea, and the bark which the valet had charterednow came up to the quay. Our carriage was put on board, we went below,and before daybreak we were under way.

  "Three days later we were in Genoa, registered under a false name in asecond class hotel. While we were on the open sea, the count had seemedto be less agitated, but now he was far from calm, and the precautionshe took proved that he still feared pursuit. A malefactor flying fromjustice could not have taken greater pains to mislead the detectives onhis track. And facts proved conclusively that I was the sole cause ofthe count's apprehension. On one occasion I even heard him discussingwith his valet the feasibility of clothing me in masculine attire.And it was only the difficulty of obtaining a suitable costume thatprevented him from carrying this project into execution. I ought tomention, however, that the servant did not share his master's anxiety,for three or four times I overheard him saying: 'The count is toogood to worry himself so much about such bad stock. Besides, she won'tovertake us. It isn't certain that she has even followed us. How canshe know anything about it?' She! Who was she? This is what I racked mybrain to discover, but without success. I must confess, monsieur, thatbeing of a practical nature, and not in the least degree romantic, Iarrived at the conclusion that the peril chiefly existed in the count'simagination, or that he greatly exaggerated it. Still he suffered nonethe less on that account, as was shown by the fact that the followingmonth was spent in hurried journeys from one Italian city to another.

  "It was the end of May before M. de Chalusse would consent to return toFrance; and then we went direct to Lyons. We had spent a couple of daysthere, when the count informed me that prudence required us to separatefor a time--that our safety demanded this sacrifice. And without givingme time to say a word, he began to explain the advantages that wouldaccrue from such an arrangement. I was extremely ignorant, and he wishedme to profit by our temporary separation to raise my knowledge toa level with my new social position. He had, accordingly, madearrangements for me to enter the convent of Sainte-Marthe, aneducational establishment which is as celebrated in the department ofthe Rhone as the Convent des Oiseaux is in Paris. He added that i
t wouldnot be prudent for him to visit me; and he made me solemnly promise thatI would never mention his name to any of my schoolmates. I was to sendany letters I might write to an address which he would give me, and hewould sign his answers with a fictitious name. He also told me that thelady superior of Sainte-Marthe knew his secret, and that I could confidein her. He was so restless and so miserably unhappy on the day whenhe acquainted me with these plans, that I really believed him insane.Nevertheless, I replied that I would obey him, and to tell the truth,I was not ill pleased at the thought of the change. My life with M.de Chalusse was a monotonous and cheerless one. I was almost dying ofennui, for I had been accustomed to work, bustle, and confusion with theGreloux, and I felt delighted at the prospect of finding myself amongcompanions of my own age.

  "Unfortunately, M. de Chalusse had forgotten one circumstance, whichmade my two years' sojourn at Sainte-Marthe a lingering and cruel agony.At first I was kindly treated by my schoolmates. A new pupil is alwayswelcome, for her arrival relieves the monotony of convent-life. But itwas not long before my companions wished to know my name; and I had noneother than Marguerite to give them. They were astonished and wished toknow who my parents were. I could not tell an untruth; and I was obligedto confess that I knew nothing at all respecting my father or my mother.After that 'the bastard'--for such was the name they gave me--was sooncondemned to isolation. No one would associate with me during play-time.No one would sit beside me in the school-room. At the piano lesson, thegirl who played after me pretended to wipe the keyboard carefullybefore commencing her exercises. I struggled bravely against thisunjust ostracism; but all in vain. I was so unlike these other girls incharacter and disposition, and I had, moreover, been guilty of a greatimprudence. I had been silly enough to show my companions the costlyjewels which M. de Chalusse had given me, but which I never wore. And ontwo occasions I had proved to them that I had more money at my disposalthan all the other pupils together. If I had been poor, they would,perhaps, have treated me with affected sympathy; but as I was rich,I became an enemy. It was war; and one of those merciless wars whichsometimes rage so furiously in convents, despite their seeming quiet.

  "I should surprise you, monsieur, if I told you what refined torturethese daughters of noblemen invented to gratify their petty spite. Imight have complained to the superior, but I scorned to do so. I buriedmy sorrow deep in my heart, as I had done years before; and I firmlyresolved never to show ought but a smiling, placid face, so as to proveto my enemies that they were powerless to disturb my peace of mind.Study became my refuge and consolation; and I plunged into work with theenergy of despair. I should probably still live at Sainte-Marthe now,had it not been for a trivial circumstance. One day I had a quarrelwith my most determined enemy, a girl named Anais de Rochecote. I was athousand times right; and I would not yield. The superior dared nottell me I was wrong. Anais was furious, and wrote I don't know whatfalsehoods to her mother. Madame de Rochecote thereupon interested themothers of five or six other pupils in her daughter's quarrel, and oneevening these ladies came in a body, and nobly and courageously demandedthat the 'bastard' should be expelled. It was impossible, outrageous,monstrous, they declared, that their daughters should be compelled toassociate with a girl like me--a nameless girl, who humiliated the othergirls with her ill-gotten wealth. The superior tried to take my part;but these ladies declared they would take their daughters from theconvent if I were not sent away. There was no help for it: I wassacrificed. Summoned by telegraph, M. de Chalusse hastened to Lyons, andtwo days later I left Sainte-Marthe with jeers and opprobrious epithetsringing in my ears."