“Yes.”

“Listen, dearest Solange.”

“I am all attention.”

“You observed all that took place to-night?”

“Yes.  I saw that you had powerful influence.”

“I regret my power is not very great.  However, I have friends.”

“I made the acquaintance of one of them.”

“And you know he is not one of the least powerful men of the times.”

“Do you intend to enlist his influence to enable my father to escape?”

“No, I reserve him for you.”

“But my father?”

“I have other ways of helping your father.”

“Other ways?” exclaimed Solange, seizing my hands and studying me with an anxious expression.

“If I serve your father, will you then sometimes think kindly of me?”

“Oh, I shall all my life hold you in grateful remembrance!”

She uttered these words with an enchanting expression of devotion.  Then she looked at me beseechingly and said: 

“But will that satisfy you?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Ah, I was not mistaken.  You are kind, generous.  I thank you for my father and myself.  Even if you should fail, I shall be grateful for what you have already done!”

“When shall we meet again, Solange?”

“When do you think it necessary to see me again?”

“To-morrow, when I hope to have good news for you.”

“Well, then, to-morrow.”

“Where?”

“Here.”

“Here in the street?”

“Well, mon Dieu!” she exclaimed.  “You see, it is the safest place.  For thirty minutes, while we have been talking here, not a soul has passed.”

“Why may I not go to you, or you come to me?”

“Because it would compromise the good people if you should come to me, and you would incur serious risk if I should go to you.”

“Oh, I would give you the pass of one of my relatives.”

“And send your relative to the guillotine if I should be accidentally arrested!”

“True.  I will bring you a pass made out in the name of Solange.”

“Charming!  You observe Solange is my real name.”

“And the hour?”

“The same at which we met to-night—­ten o’clock, if you please.”

“All right; ten o’clock.  And how shall we meet?”

“That is very simple.  Be at the door at five minutes of ten, and at ten I will come down.”

“Then, at ten to-morrow, dear Solange.”

“To-morrow at ten, dear Albert.”

I wanted to kiss her hand; she offered me her brow.

The next day I was in the street at half past nine.  At a quarter of ten
Solange opened the door.  We were both ahead of time.

With one leap I was by her side.

“I see you have good news,” she said.

“Excellent!  First, here is a pass for you.”

“First my father!”

She repelled my hand.

“Your father is saved, if he wishes.”