“You are right, darling: that clerk is a good man, and he has won our
eternal gratitude.”
“I ought to add,” continued Dionysia, “that I was ever so brave. I
should never have thought that I could be so bold. I wish you had been
hid in some corner, grandpapa, to see me and hear me. You would not have
recognized your grandchild. I cried a little, it is true, when I had
carried my point.”
“Oh, dear, dear child!” murmured the old gentleman, deeply moved.
“You see, grandpapa, I thought of nothing but of Jacques’s danger, and
of the glory of proving myself worthy of him, who is so brave himself. I
hope he will be satisfied with me.”
“He would be hard to please, indeed, if he were not!” exclaimed M. de
Chandore.
The grandfather and his child were standing all the while under the
trees in the great Square while they were thus talking to each other;
and already a number of people had taken the opportunity of passing
close by them, with ears wide open, and all eagerness, to find out
what was going on: it is a way people have in small towns. Dionysia
remembered the clerk’s kindly warnings; and, as soon as she became aware
of it, she said to her grandfather,--
“Come, grandpapa. People are listening. I will tell you the rest as we
are going home.”
And so, on their way, she told him all the little details of her
interview; and the old gentleman declared, in all earnest, that he did
not know which to admire most,--her presence of mind, or Mechinet’s
disinterestedness.
“All the more reason,” said the young girl, “why we should not add to
the dangers which the good man is going to run for us. I promised him
to tell nobody, and I mean to keep my promise. If you believe me, dear
grandpapa, we had better not speak of it to anybody, not even to my
aunts.”
“You might just as well declare at once, little scamp, that you want to
save Jacques quite alone, without anybody’s help.”
“Ah, if I could do that! Unfortunately, we must take M. Folgat into our
confidence; for we cannot do without his advice.”
Thus it was done. The poor aunts, and even the marchioness, had to be
content with Dionysia’s not very plausible explanation of her visit.
And a few hours afterwards M. de Chandore, the young girl, and M. Folgat
held a council in the baron’s study. The young lawyer was even more
surprised by Dionysia’s idea, and her bold proceedings, then her
grandfather; he would never have imagined that she was capable of such a
step, she looked so timid and innocent, like a mere child. He was about
to compliment her; but she interrupted him eagerly, saying,--
“There is nothing to boast of. I ran no risk.”
“A very substantial risk, madam, I assure you.”
“Pshaw!” exclaimed M. de Chandore.
“To bribe an official,” continued M. Folgat, “is a very grave offence.
The Criminal Code has a certain paragraph, No. 179, which does not
trifle, and punishes the man who bribes, as well as the man who is
bribed.”
“Well, so much the better!” cried Dionysia. “If poor M. Mechinet has to
go to prison, I’ll go with him!”
And, without noticing the dissatisfaction expressed in her grandfather’s
features, she added, turning to M. Folgat,--
“After all, sir, you see that your wishes have been fulfilled. We
shall be able to communicate with M. de Boiscoran: he will give us his
instructions.”
“Perhaps so, madam.”
“How? Perhaps? You said yourself”--
“I told you, madam, it would be useless, perhaps even imprudent, to take
any steps before we know the truth. But will we know it? Do you think
that M. de Boiscoran, who has good reasons for being suspicious of
every thing, will at once tell us all in a letter which must needs pass
through several hands before it can reach us?”
“He will tell us all, sir, without reserve, without fear, and without
danger.”
“Oh!”
“I have taken my precautions. You will see.”
“Then we have only to wait.”
Alas, yes! They had to wait, and that was what distressed Dionysia. She
hardly slept that night. The next day was one unbroken torment. At each
ringing of the bell, she trembled, and ran to see.