"Come in!" said Florestan.
A second valet appeared, holding in his hand a small salver. Boyer took hold of the salver with a kind of jealous officiousness, and came and presented it to the viscount, who took from it a rather voluminous envelope, sealed with black wax. The valets retired ceremoniously. The viscount opened the package. It contained twenty-five thousand francs, in treasury notes; with no other information.
"Decidedly," cried he, with joy, "the day is lucky—sacred! this time, completely saved. I shall go to the jeweler's—and yet—perhaps—no, let us wait—they can have no suspicion of me—twenty-five thousand francs are good to keep; pardieu! I was a fool ever to doubt my star; at the moment it seems most obscured does it not appear more brilliant than ever? But where does this money come from? the writing of the address is unknown to me; let me look at the seal—the cipher; yes, yes, I am not mistaken—an N and an L—it is Clotilde! How has she known?—and not a word—it is strange! How apropos! Oh I reflect—I made a rendezvous for this morning—these threats of Badinot upset me. I had forgotten Clotilde—after having waited some time, she has gone. Doubtless, this is sent as a delicate hint that she fears I shall forget her on account of my monetary embarrassments. Yes, it is an indirect reproach for not addressing myself to her as usual. Good Clotilde—always the same!—generous as a queen! What a pity to come again from her—still so handsome! Sometimes I regret it; but I have never asked her until, at the last extremity, I have been forced to it."
"The cabriolet is ready," said Boyer.
"Who brought this letter?"
"I am uninformed, my lord."
"Exactly—I will ask at the door; but tell me, is there no one below?" added the viscount, looking at Boyer in a significant manner.
"There is no longer any one, my lord."
"I was not deceived," thought Florestan. "Clotilde has waited for me, and has gone away."
"Will my lord have the goodness to grant me two minutes?" said Boyer.