“For M. de Brevan was triumphing last night.  The woman Chevassat, his confederate, had watched you, and noticing your preparations for committing suicide, had said to him, ’Rejoice! at last we shall get rid of her.’”

Henrietta shuddered, and stammered out,—­

“Is it possible?”

Then the old man, looking at her half surprised, said,—­

“What! after all you have seen of M. de Brevan, you have never suspected him of meditating your death?”

“Why, yes!  I sometimes thought so.”

“Well, this time you were right, madam.  Ah! you do not know your enemies yet.  But I know them, I; for I have had a chance of measuring the depth of their wickedness.  And there your safety would lie, if you would follow my advice.”

“I will, sir.”

Papa Ravinet was evidently a little embarrassed.  He said, however,—­

“You see, madam, I shall have to ask you to trust me blindly.”

“I will trust you blindly.”

“It is of the utmost importance that you should escape out of reach of M. de Brevan; he must lose every trace of you.  You will, consequently, have to leave this house.”

“I will leave it.”

“And in the way I say.”

“I will obey you in every point.”

The last shadow of trouble which had still overclouded the old dealer’s brow vanished as if by magic.

“Then all will go well,” he said, rubbing his hands as if he were taking off the skin; “and I guarantee the rest.  Let us make haste to understand each other; for I have been here a long time, and the woman Chevassat must be on needles.  Still, it is important she should not suspect that we are acting in concert.”

As if afraid that an indiscreet ear might be listening at the door, he drew his chair quite close to Henrietta’s bed, and whispered in a voice but just audible to her,—­

“As soon as I have turned my back that woman will come up, burning with curiosity to know what has happened between us.  You must pretend to be very angry with me.  Give her to understand that you think me a wicked old man, who wants you to pay the price of infamy for the services I wish to render to you.”

Henrietta had turned crimson.  Now she stammered out,—­

“But, sir”—­

“Perhaps you dislike telling a falsehood?”

“You see—­I cannot, I fear.  It would not be easy to lie so as to deceive Mrs. Chevassat.”

“Ah, madam, you must! it cannot be helped.  If you admit the absolute necessity, you may succeed in misleading her.  Remember that we must fight the enemy with his own weapons.”

“Well, then, I will try, sir.”