Cephyse guessed the half-told meaning of Jacques, and throwing her arms around his neck, she said to him:  “I take another lover?—­never!  I am like you, for I now first know how much I love you.”

“But, my poor Cephyse—­how will you live?”

“Well, I shall take courage.  I will go back and dwell, with my sister, as in old times; we will work together, and so earn our bread.  I’ll never go out, except to visit you.  In a few days your creditor will reflect, that, as you can’t pay him ten thousand francs, he may as well set you free.  By that time I shall have once more acquired the habit of working.  You shall see, you shall see!—­and you also will again acquire this habit.  We shall live poor, but content.  After all, we have had plenty of amusement for six month, while so many others have never known pleasure all their lives.  And believe me, my dear Jacques, when I say to you—­I shall profit by this lesson.  If you love me, do not feel the least uneasiness; I tell you, that I would rather die a hundred times, than have another lover.”

“Kiss me,” said Jacques, with eyes full of tears.  “I believe you—­yes, I believe you—­and you give me back my courage, both for now and hereafter.  You are right; we must try and get to work again, or else nothing remains but Father Arsene’s bushel of charcoal; for, my girl,” added Jacques, in a low and trembling voice, “I have been like a drunken man these six months, and now I am getting sober, and see whither we are going.  Our means once exhausted, I might perhaps have become a robber, and you—­”

“Oh, Jacques! don’t talk so—­it is frightful,” interrupted Cephyse; “I swear to you that I will return to my sister—­that I will work—­that I will have courage!”

Thus saying, the Bacchanal Queen was very sincere; she fully intended to keep her word, for her heart was not yet completely corrupted.  Misery and want had been with her, as with so many others, the cause and the excuse of her worst errors.  Until now, she had at least followed the instincts of her heart, without regard to any base or venal motive.  The cruel position in which she beheld Jacques had so far exalted her love, that she believed herself capable of resuming, along with Mother Bunch, that life of sterile and incessant toil, full of painful sacrifices and privations, which once had been impossible for her to bear, and which the habits of a life of leisure and dissipation would now render still more difficult.

Still, the assurances which she had just given Jacques calmed his grief and anxiety a little; he had sense and feeling enough to perceive that the fatal track which he had hitherto so blindly followed was leading both him and Cephyse directly to infamy.

One of the bailiffs, having knocked at the coach-door, said to Jacques:  “My lad, you have only five minutes left—­so make haste.”

“So, courage, my girl—­courage!” said Jacques.

“I will; you may rely upon me.”