The young men did not leave their ex-friend till the official hour for parting.  The gate was no sooner closed behind them than they said to each other:  “He’s not strong enough!” “He’s quite crushed.”  “I don’t believe he’ll pull through it?”

The next day Savinien wrote his mother a confession in twenty-two pages.  Madame de Portenduere, after weeping for one whole day, wrote first to her son, promising to get him out of prison, and then to the Comte de Portenduere and to Admiral Kergarouet.

The letters the abbe had just read and which the poor mother was holding in her hand and moistening with tears, were the answers to her appeal, which had arrived that morning, and had almost broken her heart.

Paris, September, 1829.

To Madame de Portenduere: 

Madame,—­You cannot doubt the interest which the admiral and I both feel in your troubles.  What you ask of Monsieur de Kergarouet grieves me all the more because our house was a home to your son; we were proud of him.  If Savinien had had more confidence in the admiral we could have taken him to live with us, and he would already have obtained some good situation.  But, unfortunately, he told us nothing; he ran into debt of his own accord, and even involved himself for me, who knew nothing of his pecuniary position.  It is all the more to be regretted because Savinien has, for the moment, tied our hands by allowing the authorities to arrest him.

If my nephew had not shown a foolish passion for me and sacrificed our relationship to the vanity of a lover, we could have sent him to travel in Germany while his affairs were being settled here.  Monsieur de Kergarouet intended to get him a place in the War office; but this imprisonment for debt will paralyze such efforts.  You must pay his debts; let him enter the navy; he will make his way like the true Portenduere that he is; he has the fire of the family in his beautiful black eyes, and we will all help him.

Do not be disheartened, madame; you have many friends, among whom I beg you to consider me as one of the most sincere; I send you our best wishes, with the respects of

Your very affectionate servant,
Emilie de Kergarouet.

The second letter was as follows:—­

Portenduere, August, 1829.

To Madame de Portenduere: 

My dear aunt,—­I am more annoyed than surprised at Savinien’s pranks.  As I am married and the father of two sons and one daughter, my fortune, already too small for my position and prospects, cannot be lessened to ransom a Portenduere from the hands of the Jews.  Sell your farm, pay his debts, and come and live with us at Portenduere.  You shall receive the welcome we owe you, even though our views may not be entirely in accordance with yours.  You shall be made happy, and we will manage to marry Savinien, whom my wife thinks charming.  This little outbreak is nothing; do not make yourself unhappy; it will never be known in this part of the country, where there are a number of rich girls who would be delighted to enter our family.