No one would know that
she had helped him. She finally threw her arms around him to convince
him with an embrace, with a burst of extraordinary love. He was
vanquished. He asked but one more question:
"Can you swear to me that your father knows what you have done and that
he advises me to fly?"
"My father sent me!" answered Francoise boldly.
She told a falsehood. At that moment she had only one immense need: to
know that he was safe, to escape from the abominable thought that
the sun would be the signal for his death. When he was far away every
misfortune might fall upon her; that would seem delightful to her from
the moment he was secure. The selfishness of her tenderness desired that
he should live before everything.
"Very well," said Dominique; "I will do what you wish."
They said nothing more. Dominique reopened the window. But suddenly
a sound froze them. The door was shaken, and they thought that it was
about to be opened. Evidently a patrol had heard their voices. Standing
locked in each other's arms, they waited in unspeakable anguish. The
door was shaken a second time, but it did not open. They uttered low
sighs of relief; they comprehended that the soldier who was asleep
against the door must have turned over.
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