“He will not disturb us to-morrow.  One; go on.”

“The lady superior of St. Mary’s Convent, warned by the Princess de Saint-Dizier, has thought fit to confine still more strictly the Demoiselles Rose and Blanche Simon.  This evening, at nine o’clock, they have been carefully locked in their cells, and armed men will make their round in the convent garden during the night.”

“Thanks to these precautions, there is nothing to fear from that side,” said Father d’Aigrigny.  “Go on.”

“Dr. Baleinier, also warned by the Princess de Saint-Dizier, continues to have Mdlle. de Cardoville very closely watched.  At a quarter to nine the door of the building in which she is lodged was locked and bolted.”

“That is still another cause the less for uneasiness.”

“As for M. Hardy,” resumed Rodin “I have received this morning, from Toulouse, a letter from his intimate friend, M. de Bressac, who has been of such service to us in keeping the manufacturer away for some days longer.  This letter contains a note, addressed by M. Hardy to a confidential person, which M. de Bressac has thought fit to intercept, and send to us as another proof of the success of the steps he has taken, and for which he hopes we shall give him credit—­as to serve us, he adds, he betrays his friend in the most shameful manner, and acts a part in an odious comedy.  M. de Bressac trusts that, in return for these good offices, we will deliver up to him those papers, which place him in our absolute dependence, as they might ruin for ever a woman he loves with an adulterous passion.  He says that we ought to have pity on the horrible alternative in which he is placed—­either to dishonor and ruin the woman he adores, or infamously to betray the confidence of his bosom friend.”

“These adulterous lamentations are not deserving of pity,” answered Father d’Aigrigny, with contempt.  “We will see about that; M. de Bressac may still be useful to us.  But let us hear this letter of M. Hardy, that impious and republican manufacturer, worthy descendant of an accursed race, whom it is of the first importance to keep away.”

“Here is M. Hardy’s letter,” resumed Rodin.  “To-morrow, we will send it to the person to whom it is addressed.”  Rodin read as follows: 

“Toulouse, February the 10th.

“At length I find a moment to write to you, and to explain the cause of the sudden departure which, without alarming, must at least have astonished you.  I write also to ask you a service; the facts may be stated in a few words.  I have often spoken to you of Felix de Bressac, one of my boyhood mates, though not nearly so old as myself.  We have always loved each other tenderly, and have shown too many proofs of mutual affection not to count upon one another.  He is a brother to me.  You know all I mean by that expression.  Well—­a few days ago, he wrote to me from Toulouse, where he was to spend some time:  ’If you love me, come; I have