“All is well, my poor coward,” she cried; “your fears are all imaginary; another has owned the child, and the story is believed.”

“Another! impossible!  He would not believe it.”

“He does believe it—­he shall believe it.”

Rose then, feeling by no means sure that Josephine, terrified as she was, would consent to let her sister come to shame to screen her, told her boldly that Jacintha had owned herself the mother of the child, and that Raynal’s only feeling towards her was pity, and regret at having so foolishly frightened her, weakened as she was by illness.  “I told him you had been ill, dear.  But how came you on the ground?”

“I had come to myself; I was on my knees praying.  He tapped.  I heard his voice.  I remember no more.  I must have fainted again directly.”

Rose had hard work to make her believe that her guilt, as she called it, was not known; and even then she could not prevail on her to come down-stairs, until she said, “If you don’t, he will come to you.”  On that Josephine consented eagerly, and with trembling fingers began to adjust her hair and her dress for the interview.

All this terrible night Rose fought for her sister.  She took her down-stairs to the salon; she put her on the sofa; she sat by her and pressed her hand constantly to give her courage.  She told the story of the surprise her own way, before the whole party, including the doctor, to prevent Raynal from being called on to tell it his way.  She laughed at Josephine’s absurdity, but excused it on account of her feeble health.  In short, she threw more and more dust in all their eyes.

But by the time when the rising sun came faintly in and lighted the haggard party, where the deceived were happy, the deceivers wretched, the supernatural strength this young girl had shown was almost exhausted.  She felt an hysterical impulse to scream and weep:  each minute it became more and more ungovernable.  Then came an unexpected turn.  Raynal after a long and tiring talk with his mother, as he called her, looked at his watch, and in a characteristic way coolly announced his immediate departure, this being the first hint he had given them that he was not come back for good.

The baroness was thunderstruck.

Rose and Josephine pressed one another’s hands, and had much ado not to utter a loud cry of joy.

Raynal explained that he was the bearer of despatches.  “I must be off:  not an hour to lose.  Don’t fret, mother, I shall soon be back again, if I am not knocked on the head.”

Raynal took leave of them all.  When it came to Rose’s turn, he drew her aside and whispered into her ear, “Who is the man?”

She started, and seemed dumfounded.

“Tell me, or I ask my wife.”

“She has promised me not to betray me:  I made her swear.  Spare me now, brother; I will tell you all when you come back.”

“That is a bargain:  now hear me swear:  he shall marry you, or he shall die by my hand.”