The reader knows that Jacques Ferrand, having formally refused to enter into this plot, in spite of Sarah's threats, had resolved to make away with Fleur-de-Marie, as much from dread of the revelations of La Chouette, as from fear of the countess. But she had not renounced her designs, for she was almost certain of corrupting or intimidating the notary, when she had secured a girl capable of playing the part designed for her.
After a moment's silence, Sarah said to La Chouette, "Are you adroit, discreet, and resolute?"
"Adroit as a monkey, resolute as a dog, dumb as a fish; there's La Chouette, just as the devil has made her, ready to serve you if she is capable—and she is rather," answered the hag in a lively manner. "I hope we have famously decoyed the young country girl, who is safely fastened up in Saint Lazare for two good months."
"The question is no longer of her, but of other things."
"As you wish, my little lady. As long as there is money at the end of what you are about to propose, we shall be like two fingers of a hand."
Sarah could not suppress a movement of disgust. "You must know," said she, "some common people—some unfortunate family."
"There are more of them than millionaires; plenty to pick from; there is a rich misery in Paris."
"You must find for me a young orphan girl, one who lost her parents very early. She must be of an agreeable face, of a sweet temper, and not more than seventeen."
La Chouette looked at Sarah with astonishment.
"Such an orphan cannot be difficult to find," resumed the countess; "there are so many foundlings."