Scarcely had he spoken, when the door flew violently up: a young lady came rushing in; she pushed away the old servant, who attempted to restrain her. She made right to the abbé, and seized him by the arm: her tears and sobs would hardly let her speak these words: “Where is he? Where have you put him? ‘Tis a frightful treachery! Confess it now! I know what you are doing: I will after him,—will know where you have sent him!”
“Be calm, my child,” replied the abbé, with assumed composure; “come with me to your room: you shall know it all; only you must have the strength to listen, if you ask me to relate.” He offered her his hand, as if he meant to lead her out. “I will not return to my room,” cried she: “I hate the walls where you have kept me prisoner so long. I know it already: the colone
