“Fly! fly!  You will be caught!”

It was Helene.  Astounded, they both gazed at her.  So great was their stupefaction that they lost consciousness of their embarrassing situation.  Juliette indeed displayed no sign of confusion.

“Fly! fly!” said Helene again.  “Your husband will be here in two minutes.”

“My husband!” stammered the young woman; “my husband!—­why—­for what reason?”

She was losing her wits.  Her brain was in a turmoil.  It seemed to her prodigious that Helene should be standing there speaking to her of her husband.

But Helene made an angry gesture.

“Oh! if you think I’ve time to explain,” said she,—­“he is on the way here.  I give you warning.  Disappear at once, both of you.”

Then Juliette’s agitation became extraordinary.  She ran about the rooms like a maniac, screaming out disconnected sentences.

“My God! my God!—­I thank you.—­Where is my cloak?—­How horrid it is, this room being so dark!—­Give me my cloak.—­Bring me a candle, to help me to find my cloak.—­My dear, you mustn’t mind if I don’t stop to thank you.—­I can’t get my arms into the sleeves—­no, I can’t get them in—­no, I can’t!”

She was paralyzed with fear, and Helene was obliged to assist her with her cloak.  She put her bonnet on awry, and did not even tie the ribbons.  The worst of it, however, was that they lost quite a minute in hunting for her veil, which had fallen on the floor.  Her words came with a gasp; her trembling hands moved about in bewilderment, fumbling over her person to ascertain whether she might be leaving anything behind which might compromise her.

“Oh, what a lesson! what a lesson!  Thank goodness, it is well over!”

Malignon was very pale, and made a sorry appearance.  His feet beat a tattoo on the ground, as he realized that he was both scorned and ridiculous.  His lips could only give utterance to the wretched question: 

“Then you think I ought to go away as well?”

Then, as no answer was vouchsafed him, he took up his cane, and went on talking by way of affecting perfect composure.  They had plenty of time, said he.  It happened that there was another staircase, a small servants’ staircase, now never used, but which would yet allow of their descent.  Madame Deberle’s cab had remained at the door; it would convey both of them away along the quays.  And again he repeated:  “Now calm yourself.  It will be all right.  See, this way.”

He threw open a door, and the three dingy, dilapidated, little rooms, which had not been repaired and were full of dirt, appeared to view.  A puff of damp air entered the boudoir.  Juliette, ere she stepped through all that squalor, gave final expression to her disgust.

“How could I have come here?” she exclaimed in a loud voice.  “What a hole!  I shall never forgive myself.”

“Be quick, be quick!” urged Helene, whose anxiety was as great as her own.