At this thought a
sudden terror seized her soul, so full of peace and hope an
instant before. When she was attacked, would she have time to
produce and use the facsimile of Valorsay's letter?" I must reveal
my secret to a friend--to a trusty friend--who will avenge me!"
she muttered.
Fortunately she had a friend in whom she could safely confide--the
old magistrate who had given her such proofs of sympathy. She
felt that she needed the advice of a riper experience than her
own, and the thought of consulting him at once occurred to her.
She was alone; she had no spy to fear; and it would be folly not
to profit by the few moments of liberty that remained. So she
drew her writing-case from her trunk, and, after barricading her
door to prevent a surprise, she wrote her friend an account of the
events which had taken place since their last interview. She told
him everything with rare precision and accuracy of detail, sending
him a copy of Valorsay's letter, and informing him that, in case
any misfortune befell her, he could obtain the facsimiles from
Carjat. She finished her letter, but did not seal it. "If
anything should happen before I have an opportunity to post it, I
will add a postscript," she said to herself.
She had made all possible haste, fearing that Madame de Fondege
and Madame Leon might return at any moment. But this was truly a
chimerical apprehension.
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