“And, by this means, then, they would be sure of entering without difficulty, would they not?”
“Certainly, Madame; for as I should be the first to pass, I thus remove any difficulties that might chance to be in the way.”
“Very well. Go, go, Monsieur de Manicamp, and wait at the bottom of the staircase.”
“I go at once, Madame.”
“Stay.”
Manicamp paused.
“When you hear the footsteps of two women descending the stairs, go out, and, without once turning round, take the road which leads to where the poor count is lying.”
“But if, by any mischance, two other persons were to descend, and I were to be mistaken?”
“You will hear one of the two clap her hands together softly. Go.”
Manicamp turned round, bowed once more, and left the room, his heart overflowing with joy. In fact, he knew very well that the presence of Madame herself would be the best balm to apply to his friend’s wounds. A quarter of an hour had hardly elapsed when he heard the sound of a door opened softly, and closed with like precaution. He listened to the light footfalls gliding down the staircase, and then heard the signal agreed upon. He immediately went out, and, faithful to his promise, bent his way, without once turning his head, through the streets of Fontainebleau, towards the doctor’s dwelling.