“True,” said Adrienne, more and more uneasy.  “Well?”

“As I had been charged to superintend the removal from the lodge, I knew that several things had remained there.  To obtain admittance, I had to apply to Mrs. Grivois.  I had thus a pretext for returning to the hotel.”

“What next, Florine, what next?”

“I endeavored to get Mrs. Grivois to talk of M. Rodin; but it was in vain.”

“She suspected you,” said the workgirl.  “It was to be anticipated.”

“I asked her,” continued Florine, “if they had seen M. Rodin at the hotel lately.  She answered evasively.  Then despairing of getting anything out of her,” continued Florine, “I left Mrs. Grivois, and that my visit might excite no suspicion, I went to the pavilion—­when, as I turn down the avenue—­whom do I see? why, M. Rodin himself, hastening towards the little garden-door, wishing no doubt to depart unnoticed by that way.”

“Madame, you hear,” cried Mother Bunch, clasping her hands with a supplicating air; “such evidence should convince you.”

“M.  Rodin at the Princess de Saint-Dizier’s!” cried Mdlle. de Cardoville, whose glance, generally so mild, now suddenly flashed with vehement indignation.  Then she added, in a tone of considerable emotion, “Continue, Florine.”

“At sight of M. Rodin, I stopped,” proceeded Florine, “and keeping a little on one side, I gained the pavilion without being seen.  I looked out into the street, through the closed blinds, and perceived a hackney coach.  It was waiting for M. Rodin, for, a minute after, he got into it, saying to the coachman, ‘No. 39, Rue Blanche’

“The prince’s!” exclaimed Mdlle. de Cardoville.

“Yes, madame.”

“Yes, M. Rodin was to see him to-day,” said Adrienne, reflecting.

“No doubt he betrays you, madame, and the prince also; the latter will be made his victim more easily than you.”

“Shame! shame!” cried Mdlle. de Cardoville, on a sudden, as she rose, all her features contracted with painful anger.  “After such a piece of treachery, it is enough to make us doubt of everything—­even of ourselves.”

“Oh, madame! is it not dreadful?” said Mother Bunch, shuddering.

“But, then, why did he rescue me and mine, and accuse the Abbe d’Aigrigny?” wondered Mdlle. de Cardoville.  “Of a truth, it is enough to make one lose one’s reason.  It is an abyss—­but, oh! how frightful is doubt!”

“As I returned,” said Florine, casting a look of affectionate devotion on her mistress, “I thought of a way to make all clear; but there is not a minute to lose.”

“What do you mean?” said Adrienne, looking at Florine with surprise.

“M.  Rodin will soon be alone with the prince,” said Florine.

“No doubt,” replied Adrienne.

“The prince always sits in a little room that opens upon a greenhouse.  It is there that he will receive M. Rodin.”

“What then?” resumed Adrienne.