“Only think—­such a friend.  The only man mentioned in his letters.  He would have something to give me, if nothing more than a few poor words.  It may be something said and thought in those last days.  Would you want me to turn my back on what is left of my poor brother—­a friend?”

“Certainly not,” I said.  “I quite understand your pious curiosity.”

“—­Unstained, lofty, and solitary existences,” she murmured to herself.  “There are!  There are!  Well, let me question one of them about the loved dead.”

“How do you know, though, that you will meet him there?  Is he staying in the Chateau as a guest—­do you suppose?”

“I can’t really tell,” she confessed.  “He brought a written introduction from Father Zosim—­who, it seems, is a friend of Madame de S—­ too.  She can’t be such a worthless woman after all.”

“There were all sorts of rumours afloat about Father Zosim himself,” I observed.

She shrugged her shoulders.

“Calumny is a weapon of our government too.  It’s well known.  Oh yes!  It is a fact that Father Zosim had the protection of the Governor-General of a certain province.  We talked on the subject with my brother two years ago, I remember.  But his work was good.  And now he is proscribed.  What better proof can one require.  But no matter what that priest was or is.  All that cannot affect my brother’s friend.  If I don’t meet him there I shall ask these people for his address.  And, of course, mother must see him too, later on.  There is no guessing what he may have to tell us.  It would be a mercy if mamma could be soothed.  You know what she imagines.  Some explanation perhaps may be found, or—­or even made up, perhaps.  It would be no sin.”

“Certainly,” I said, “it would be no sin.  It may be a mistake, though.”

“I want her only to recover some of her old spirit.  While she is like this I cannot think of anything calmly.”

“Do you mean to invent some sort of pious fraud for your mother’s sake?” I asked.

“Why fraud?  Such a friend is sure to know something of my brother in these last days.  He could tell us....  There is something in the facts which will not let me rest.  I am certain he meant to join us abroad—­that he had some plans—­some great patriotic action in view; not only for himself, but for both of us.  I trusted in that.  I looked forward to the time!  Oh! with such hope and impatience.  I could have helped.  And now suddenly this appearance of recklessness—­as if he had not cared....”

She remained silent for a time, then obstinately she concluded—­

“I want to know....”