Once more, and for the last time, farewell! If you love me,
you will not try to see me again. It would only add to my misery.
"Think as though she were dead--she who signs herself--MARGUERITE.
The commonplace wording of this letter, and the mistakes in
spelling that marred it, entirely escaped Pascal's notice. He
only understood one thing, that Marguerite was lost to him, and
that she was on the point of becoming the wife of the vile
scoundrel who had planned the snare which had ruined him at the
Hotel d'Argeles. Breathless, despairing, and half crazed with
rage, he sprang toward Madame Leon. "Marguerite, where is she?"
he demanded, in a hoarse, unnatural voice; "I must see her!"
"Oh! monsieur, what do you ask? Is it possible? Allow me to
explain to you----" But the housekeeper was unable to finish her
sentence, for Pascal had caught her by the hands, and holding them
in a vicelike grip, he repeated: "I must see Marguerite, and speak
to her. I must tell her that she has been deceived; I will unmask
the scoundrel who----"
The frightened housekeeper struggled with all her might, trying
her best to reach the little gate which was standing open. "You
hurt me!" she cried. "Are you mad? Let me go or I shall call for
help?" And twice indeed she shouted in a loud voice, "Help!
murder!"
But her cries were lost in the stillness of the night. If any one
heard them, no one came; still they recalled Pascal to a sense of
the situation, and he was ashamed of his violence.
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