Thus the poor girl came home more downcast than before.  Immediately, however, her maid, who had evidently been on the lookout for her return, told her that her grandfather and the lawyer from Paris were waiting for her in the baron’s study.  She hastened there without stopping to take off her bonnet; and, as soon as she came in, M. de Chandore handed her Jacques’s letter, saying,—­

“Here is your answer.”

She could not repress a little cry of delight, and rapidly touched the letter with her lips, repeating,—­

“Now we are safe, we are safe!”

M. de Chandore smiled at the happiness of his granddaughter.

“But, Miss Hypocrite,” he said, “it seems you had great secrets to communicate to M. de Boiscoran, since you resorted to cipher, like arch conspirators.  M. Folgat and I tried to read it; but it was all Greek to us.”

Now only the young lady remembered M. Folgat’s presence, and, blushing deeply, she said,—­

“Latterly Jacques and I had been discussing the various methods to which people resort who wish to carry on a secret correspondence:  this led him to teach me one of the ways.  Two correspondents choose any book they like, and each takes a copy of the same edition.  The writer looks in his volume for the words he wants, and numbers them; his correspondent finds them by the aid of these numbers.  Thus, in Jacques’s letters, the numbers followed by a colon refer to the pages, and the others to the order in which the words come.”

“Ah, ah!” said Grandpapa Chandore, “I might have looked a long time.”

“It is a very simple method,” replied Dionysia, “very well known, and still quite safe.  How could an outsider guess what book the correspondents have chosen?  Then there are other means to mislead indiscreet people.  It may be agreed upon, for instance, that the numbers shall never have their apparent value, or that they shall vary according to the day of the month or the week.  Thus, to-day is Monday, the second day of the week.  Well, I have to deduct one from each number of a page, and add one to each number of a word.”

“And you will be able to make it all out?” asked M. de Chandore.

“Certainly, dear grandpapa.  Ever since Jacques explained it to me, I have tried to learn it as a matter of course.  We have chose a book which I am very fond of, Cooper’s ‘Spy;’ and we amused ourselves by writing endless letters.  Oh! it is very amusing, and it takes time, because one does not always find the words that are needed, and then they have to be spelled letter by letter.”

“And M. de Boiscoran has a copy of Cooper’s novels in his prison?” asked M. Folgat.

“Yes, sir.  M. Mechinet told me so.  As soon as Jacques found he was to be kept in close confinement, he asked for some of Cooper’s novels, and M. Galpin, who is so cunning, so smart, and so suspicious, went himself and got them for him.  Jacques was counting upon me.”