“‘Who knows?  I’ve done harder things than that in my life.’

“And taking a large envelope from his pocket,

“‘This,’ he said, ’is the letter which caused your arrest.  I have examined it attentively; and I am certain that the handwriting is not disguised.  That’s something to start with, and may enable me to verify my suspicions, should any occur to my mind.  In the mean time, return quietly to Paris, resume your ordinary occupations, answer vaguely any questions that may be asked about this matter, and above all, never mention my name.  Remain at the Hotel des Folies:  it is in my district, in my legitimate sphere of action; besides, the proprietors are in a position where they dare not disobey my orders.  Never come to my office, unless something grave and unforeseen should occur.  Our chances of success would be seriously compromised, if they could suspect the interest I take in your welfare.  Keep your eyes open on every thing that is going on around you, and, if you notice any thing suspicious, write to me.  I will myself organize a secret surveillance around you.  If I can bag one of the rascals who are watching you, that’s all I want.’

“‘And now,’ added this good man, ‘good-by.  Patience and courage.’

“Unfortunately he had not thought of offering me a little money:  I had not dared to ask him for any, and I had but eight sous left.  It was on foot, therefore, that I was compelled to return to Paris.

“Mme. Fortin received me with open arms.  With me returned the hope of recovering the hundred and odd francs which I owed her, and which she had given up for lost.  Moreover, she had excellent news for me.  M. Van Klopen had sent for me during my absence, requesting me to call at his shop.  Tired as I was, I went to see him at once.  I found him very much downcast by the poor prospects of business.  Still he was determined to go on, and offered to employ me, not as work-woman, as heretofore, but to try on garments for customers, at a salary of one hundred and twenty francs a month.  I was not in a position to be very particular.  I accepted; and there I am still.

“Every morning, when I get to the shop, I take off this simple costume, and I put on a sort of livery that belongs to M. Van Klopen, —­wide skirts, and a black silk dress.

“Then whenever a customer comes who wants a cloak, a mantle, or some other ‘wrapping,’ I step up and put on the garment, that the purchaser may see how it looks.  I have to walk, to turn around, sit down, etc.  It is absurdly ridiculous, often humiliating; and many a time, during the first days, I felt tempted to give back to M. Van Klopen his black silk dress.

“But the conjectures of my friend the peace-officer were constantly agitating my brain.  Since I thought I had discovered a mystery in my existence, I indulged in all sorts of fancies, and was momentarily expecting some extraordinary occurrence, some compensation of destiny, and I remained.