"I must go to Paris," said Fouchette, determinedly, "if I have to walk!"
"Nonsense!" said the young man.
"Nonsense!" chimed in mother and sisters.
"I'll fix you all right," finally declared the young man, "on a single condition,—that you carry a letter from me to Inspector Loup and deliver it into his own hands, mademoiselle. Is it a bargain?"
"Oh, yes, monsieur,—very sure!" cried the girl, almost overcome by this last good fortune. "You are very good,—it would be a pleasure, monsieur, I assure you."
"And if you were to tell him the part I have taken to-night in your case it would be of great service,—if you would be so good, mademoiselle. Not that it is anything, but——"
"You may be assured of that, too," said Fouchette, who, however, did not understand what possible interest lay in this direction.
They were all so effusive and apparently grateful that she was made to believe herself a very important personage.
As the letter was brought out immediately, she saw that it was already prepared, and wondered why it was not sent by post.
Another family consultation, and it was decided that Fouchette might lose the letter by some accident; so, on the suggestion of the mother, it was carefully sewn in the bosom of their emissary's dress.