“She told me, that she considered me her most mortal enemy,” said Rodin. “Be it so. But did she tell the same to the marshal? Has she ever mentioned me to him? and if she have done so, has the marshal communicated this circumstance to his soldier? It may be so; but it is by no means sure; in any case. I must ascertain the fact; if the soldier treats me as an enemy, we shall see what is next to be done—but I will first try to be received as a friend.”
“When?” asked the princess.
“To-morrow morning,” replied Rodin.
“Good heaven, my clear father!” cried the Princess de Saint-Dizier, in alarm; “if this soldier were to treat you as an enemy—beware—”
“I always beware, madame. I have had to face worse enemies than he is,” said the Jesuit showing his black teeth; “the cholera to begin with.”
“But he may refuse to see you, and in what way will you then get at Marshal Simon’s daughters?” said Father d’Aigrigny.
“I do not yet know.” answered Rodin. “But as I intend to do it, I shall find the means.”
“Father,” said the princess, suddenly, on reflection, “these girls have never seen me, and I might obtain admittance to them, without sending in my name.”
“That would be perfectly useless at present, madame, for I must first know what course to take with respect to them. I must see and converse with them, at any cost, and then, after I have fixed my plan, your assistance may be very useful. In any case, please to be ready to morrow, madame, to accompany me.”
“To what place, father?”