“I do not know if the symptom is a serious one,” said the Jesuit; “but the reverend father has suddenly lost his voice.”

“It is the third time this has happened within the last week,” said Rousselet; “the operation of Dr. Baleiner will act both on the larynx and on the lungs.”

“Is the operation a very painful one?” asked Father d’Aigrigny.

“There is, perhaps, none more cruel in surgery,” answered the young doctor; “and Dr. Baleinier has partly concealed its nature from Father Rodin.”

“Please to wait here for Dr. Baleinier, and send him to us as soon as he arrives,” resumed Father d’Aigrigny:  and, returning to the sick chamber, he sat down by the bedside, and said to Rodin, as he showed him the letter:  “Here are different reports with regard to different members of the Rennepont family, whom I have had looked after by others, my indisposition having kept me at home for the last few days.  I do not know, father, if the state of your health will permit you to hear—­”

Rodin made a gesture, at once so supplicating and peremptory, that Father d’Aigrigny felt there would be at least as much danger in refusing as in granting his request; so, turning towards the cardinal, still inconsolable at not having discovered the Jesuit’s secret, he said to him with respectful deference, pointing at the same time to the letter:  “Have I the permission of your Eminence?”

The prelate bowed, and replied:  “Your affairs are ours, my dear father.  The Church must always rejoice in what rejoices your glorious Company.”

Father d’Aigrigny unsealed the packet, and found in it different notes in different handwritings.  When he had read the first, his countenance darkened, and he said, in a grave tone:  “A misfortune—­a great misfortune.”

Rodin turned his head abruptly, and looked at him with an air of uneasy questioning.

“Florine is dead of the cholera,” answered Father d’Aigrigny; “and what is the worst,” added he, crumpling the note between his hands, “before dying, the miserable creature confessed to Mdlle. de Cardoville that she long acted as a spy under the orders of your reverence.”

No doubt the death of Florine, and the confession she had made, crossed some of the plans of Rodin, for he uttered an inarticulate murmur, and his countenance expressed great vexation.

Passing to another note, Father d’Aigrigny continued:  “This relates to Marshal Simon, and is not absolutely bad, but still far from satisfactory, as it announces some amelioration in his position.  We shall see if it merits belief, by information from another source.”

Rodin made a sign of impatience, to hasten Father d’Aigrigny to read the note, which he did as follows. “`For some days, the mind of the marshal has appeared to be less sorrowful, anxious and agitated.  He lately passed two hours with his daughters, which had not been the case for some time before.  The harsh countenance of the soldier Dagobert is becoming smoother—­a sure sign of some amelioration in the condition of the marshal.  Detected by their handwriting, the last anonymous letters were returned by Dagobert to the postman, without having been opened by the marshal.  Some other method must be found to get them delivered.’”