“Arnica, my dearest, let me go!”
She was sobbing. It was she now who insisted on Blafaphas coming to the rescue. Amédée was starting to fetch him, when he turned up of his own accord, knocking first at the drawing-room window, as was his habit.
“Well! that’s the most singular story I ever heard in my life!” he cried when they had told him all about it. “No, really! Who would ever have thought of such a thing?” And then, before Fleurissoire had said anything of his intentions, he went on abruptly:
“My dear fellow, there’s only one thing for us to do—set out at once.”
“You see,” said Amédée, “it’s his first thought.”
“Unfortunately I’m kept at home by my poor father’s health,” was his second.
“After all, it’s better that I should go by myself,” went on Amédée. “Two of us together would attract attention.”
“But will you know how to manage?”
At this, Amédée raised his shoulders and eyebrows, as much as to say: “I can but do my best!”
“Will you know whom to appeal to?... where to go?... And, as a matter of fact, what exactly do you mean to do when you get there?”