The marquis grew pale, and said to Mme. de Saint-Dizier: “If this be not merely one of her whims, the eagerness she displays in sending for this relation hither, proves that she knows more than you even suspected. She is ‘posted’ on the affair of the medals. Have a care—she may ruin all.”
“In that case,” said the princess, resolutely, “there is no room to hesitate. We must carry things further than we thought, and make an end this very morning.”
“Yes, though it is almost impossible.”
“Nay, all is possible. The doctor and M. Tripeaud are ours,” said the princess, hastily.
“Though I am as sure as you are of the doctor, or of M. Tripeaud, under present circumstances, we must not touch on the question of acting—which will be sure to frighten them at first—until after our interview with your niece. It will be easy, notwithstanding her cleverness, to find out her armor’s defect. If our suspicions should be realized—if she is really informed of what it would be so dangerous for her to know—then we must have no scruples, and above all no delay. This very day must see all set at rest. The time for wavering is past.”
“Have you been able to send for the person agreed on?” asked the princess, after a moment’s silence.
“He was to be here at noon. He cannot be long.”
“I thought this room would do very well for our purpose. It is separated from the smaller parlor by a curtain only behind which your man may be stationed.”
“Capital!”
“Is he a man to be depended on?”