Usually, when the cure did not wish to reply to the sick man’s questions, it was sufficient to tell him that conversation and excitement would retard his recovery; but this time the baron was not so docile.

“It will be very easy for you to restore my tranquillity,” he said.  “Confess now, that you are trembling lest they discover my retreat.  This fear is torturing me also.  Very well, swear to me that you will not allow them to take me alive, and then my mind will be at rest.”

“I cannot take such an oath as that,” said the cure, turning pale.

“And why?” insisted M. d’Escorval.  “If I am recaptured, what will happen?  They will nurse me, and then, as soon as I can stand upon my feet, they will shoot me down.  Would it be a crime to save me from such suffering?  You are my best friend; swear to render me this supreme service.  Would you have me curse you for saving my life?”

The abbe made no response; but his eye, voluntarily or involuntarily, turned with a peculiar expression to the box of medicine standing upon the table near by.

Did he wish to be understood as saying: 

“I will do nothing; but you will find a poison there.”

M. d’Escorval understood it in this way, for it was with an accent of gratitude that he murmured: 

“Thanks!”

Now that he felt that he was master of his life he breathed more freely.  From that moment his condition, so long desperate, began to improve.

“I can defy all my enemies from this hour,” he said, with a gayety which certainly was not feigned.

Day after day passed and the abbe’s sinister apprehensions were not realized; he, too, began to regain confidence.

Instead of causing an increase of severity, Maurice’s and Jean Lacheneur’s frightful imprudence had been, as it were, the point of departure for a universal indulgence.

One might reasonably have supposed that the authorities of Montaignac had forgotten, and desired to have forgotten, if that were possible, Lacheneur’s conspiracy, and the abominable slaughter for which it had been made the pretext.

They soon heard at the farm that Maurice and the brave corporal had succeeded in reaching Piedmont.

No allusion was made to Jean Lacheneur, so it was supposed that he had not left the country; but they had no reason to fear for his safety, since he was not upon the proscribed list.

Later, it was rumored that the Marquis de Courtornieu was ill, and that Mme. Blanche did not leave his bedside.

Soon afterward, Father Poignot, on returning from Montaignac, reported that the duke had just passed a week in Paris, and that he was now on his way home with one more decoration—­another proof of royal favor—­and that he had succeeded in obtaining an order for the release of all the conspirators, who were now in prison.

It was impossible to doubt this intelligence, for the Montaignac papers mentioned this fact, with all the circumstances on the following day.