"What did her sister say about it?"
"Nothing. She seemed greatly surprised that a stranger wanted to buy
a plot of ground and give Marguerite a new grave, and she immediately
signed the authorization that I asked her for."
"Believe me, it would be better to wait until you are quite well."
"Have no fear; I shall be quite composed. Besides, I should simply go
out of my mind if I were not to carry out a resolution which I have set
myself to carry out. I swear to you that I shall never be myself again
until I have seen Marguerite. It is perhaps the thirst of the fever,
a sleepless night's dream, a moment's delirium; but though I were to
become a Trappist, like M. de Rance', after having seen, I will see."
"I understand," I said to Armand, "and I am at your service. Have you
seen Julie Duprat?"
"Yes, I saw her the day I returned, for the first time."
"Did she give you the papers that Marguerite had left for you?"
Armand drew a roll of papers from under his pillow, and immediately put
them back.
"I know all that is in these papers by heart," he said. "For three weeks
I have read them ten times over every day. You shall read them, too, but
later on, when I am calmer, and can make you understand all the love and
tenderness hidden away in this confession. For the moment I want you to
do me a service."
"What is it?"
"Your cab is below?"
"Yes.
"Well, will you take my passport and ask if there are any letters for me
at the poste restante? My father and sister must have written to me at
Paris, and I went away in such haste that I did not go and see before
leaving. When you come back we will go together to the inspector of
police, and arrange for to-morrow's ceremony."
Armand handed me his passport, and I went to Rue Jean Jacques Rousseau.
There were two letters addressed to Duval. I took them and returned.
When I re-entered the room Armand was dressed and ready to go out.
"Thanks," he said, taking the letters. "Yes," he added, after glancing
at the addresses, "they are from my father and sister. They must have
been quite at a loss to understand my silence."
He opened the letters, guessed at rather than read them, for each was of
four pages; and a moment after folded them up. "Come," he said, "I will
answer tomorrow."