But before doing so he had a sacred duty
to perform. "I must warn Marguerite," he muttered. And seating
himself at his desk, he wrote his beloved a concise and exact
account of the events which had taken place. He told her of the
course he intended to pursue; and promised her that she should
know his new abode as soon as he knew it himself. In conclusion,
he entreated her to grant him an interview, in which he could give
her the full particulars of the affair and acquaint her with his
hopes. As for exculpating himself, even by so much as a single
word--as for explaining the snare he had been the victim of, the
idea never once occurred to him. He was worthy of Mademoiselle
Marguerite; he knew that not a doubt would disturb the perfect
faith she had in his honor.
Leaning over her son's shoulder, Madame Ferailleur read what he
had written. "Do you intend to trust this letter to the post?"
she inquired. "Are you sure, perfectly sure, that it will reach
Mademoiselle Marguerite, and not some one else who might use it
against you?"
Pascal shook his head. "I know how to insure its safe receipt,"
he replied. "Some time ago, Marguerite told me that if ever any
great peril threatened us, I might call for the housekeeper at the
Chalusse mansion and intrust my message to her. The danger is
sufficiently great to justify such a course in the present
instance. So I shall pass down the Rue de Courcelles, ask to see
Madame Leon, and give her this letter.
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