“What! You know his name?”
“Yes, I do; for Blangin mentioned him to me; and the name struck me the
day when M. de Boiscoran’s mother and I went to the jail, not knowing
what was meant by ‘close confinement.’”
The clerk was disappointed.
“Ah!” he said, “now I understand M. Galpin’s great trouble. He has, no
doubt, heard of your visit, and imagined that you wanted to rob him of
his prisoner.”
He murmured some words, which Dionysia could not hear; and then, coming
to some decision, apparently, he said,--
“Well, never mind! I’ll see what can be done. Write your letter, madam:
here are pens and ink.”
The young girl made no reply, but sat down at Mechinet’s table; but, at
the moment when she was putting pen to paper she asked,--
“Has M. de Boiscoran any books in his prison?”
“Yes, madam. At his request M. Galpin himself went and selected, in M.
Daubigeon’s library, some books of travels and some of Cooper’s novels
for him.”
Dionysia uttered a cry of delight.
“O Jacques!” she said, “how glad I am you counted upon me!” and, without
noticing how utterly Mechinet seemed to be surprised, she wrote,--
“We are sure of your innocence, Jacques, and still we are in despair.
Your mother is here, with a Paris lawyer, a M. Folgat, who is devoted
to your interests. What must we do? Give us your instructions. You can
reply without fear, as you have _our_ book.
“DIONYSIA.”
“Read this,” she said to the clerk, when she had finished. But he did
not avail himself of the permission. He folded the paper, and slipped it
into an envelope, which he sealed.
“Oh, you are very kind!” said the young girl, touched by his delicacy.
“Not at all, madam. I only try to do a dishonest thing in the most
honest way. To-morrow, madam, you shall have your answer.”
“I will call for it.”
Mechinet trembled.
“Take care not to do so,” he said. “The good people of Sauveterre are
too cunning not to know that just now you are not thinking much of
dress; and your calls here would look suspicious. Leave it to me to see
to it that you get M. de Boiscoran’s answer.”
While Dionysia was writing, the clerk had made a parcel of the bonds
which she had brought. He handed it to her, and said,--
“Take it, madam. If I want money for Blangin, or for Trumence, I will
ask you for it. And now you must go: you need not go in to my sisters. I
will explain your visit to them.”