“Unfortunately, as you already know, my mistress is no longer here.”

“But is there no member of her family to whom, if I could not speak myself, I might at least send word by you, that Agricola has something to communicate of importance to this young lady?”

“It is strange!” said Florine, reflecting, and without replying.  Then, turning towards the sempstress, she added:  “You are quite ignorant of the nature of these revelations?”

“Completely so, mademoiselle; but I know Agricola.  He is all honor and truth, and you may believe whatever he affirms.  Besides, he would have no interest—­”

“Good gracious!” interrupted Florine, suddenly, as if struck with a sadden light; “I have just remembered something.  When he was arrested in a hiding-place where my mistress had concealed him, I happened to be close at hand, and M. Agricola said to me, in a quick whisper:  ’Tell your generous mistress that her goodness to me will not go unrewarded, and that my stay in that hiding-place may not be useless to her.’  That was all he could say to me, for they hurried him off instantly.  I confess that I saw in those words only the expression of his gratitude, and his hope of proving it one day to my mistress; but now that I connect them with the letter he has written you—­” said Florine, reflecting.

“Indeed!” remarked Mother Bunch, “there is certainly some connection between his hiding-place here and the important secrets which he wishes to communicate to your mistress, or one of her family.”

“The hiding-place had neither been inhabited nor visited for some time,” said Florine, with a thoughtful air; “M.  Agricola may have found therein something of interest to my mistress.”

“If his letter had not appeared to me so pressing,” resumed the other, “I should not have come hither; but have left him to do so himself, on his release from prison, which now, thanks to the generosity of one of his old fellow-workmen, cannot be very distant.  But, not knowing if bail would be accepted to-day, I have wished faithfully to perform his instructions.  The generous kindness of your mistress made it my first duty.”

Like all persons whose better instincts are still roused from time to time, Florine felt a sort of consolation in doing good whenever she could with impunity—­that is to say, without exposing herself to the inexorable resentments of those on whom she depended.  Thanks to Mother Bunch, she might now have an opportunity of rendering a great service to her mistress.  She knew enough of the Princess de Saint-Dizier’s hatred of her niece, to feel certain that Agricola’s communication could not, from its very importance, be made with safety to any but Mdlle. de Cardoville herself.  She therefore said very gravely:  “Listen to me, mademoiselle!  I will give you a piece of advice which will, I think, be useful to my poor mistress—­but which would be very fatal to me if you did not attend to my recommendations.”