“You ought to see the anxiety of your enemies since you have slipped
out of their hands. That woman Chevassat had, last night, come to
the conclusion that you were gone, and gone forever; but this morning
matters looked very differently. Maxime de Brevan had been there, making
a terrible row, and beating her (God forgive him!) because she had
relaxed in her watchfulness. The rascal! The fellow has been spending
the whole day in running from the police office to the Morgue, and back
again. Destitute as you were, and almost without clothes, what could
have become of you? I, for my part, did not show; and the Chevassats are
far from suspecting that I had any thing to do with the whole
affair. Ah! It will soon be our turn, and if you will only accept my
suggestions, madam”--
It was past nine o’clock when the old dealer, his sister, and Henrietta
sat down to their modest meal. But in the interval a hopeful smile had
reappeared on Henrietta’s face, and she looked almost happy, when, about
midnight, Papa Ravinet left them with the words,--
“To-morrow evening I shall have news. I am going to the navy
department.”
The next day he reappeared precisely at six o’clock, but in what a
condition! He had in his hand a kind of carpet-bag; and his looks and
gestures made him look almost insane.
“Money!” he cried out to his sister as he entered. “I am afraid I have
not enough; and make haste. I have to be at the Lyons Railway at seven
o’clock.”