“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?”