“But, then, why did he rescue me and mine, and accuse the Abbe d’Aigrigny?” wondered Mdlle. de Cardoville. “Of a truth, it is enough to make one lose one’s reason. It is an abyss—but, oh! how frightful is doubt!”
“As I returned,” said Florine, casting a look of affectionate devotion on her mistress, “I thought of a way to make all clear; but there is not a minute to lose.”
“What do you mean?” said Adrienne, looking at Florine with surprise.
“M. Rodin will soon be alone with the prince,” said Florine.
“No doubt,” replied Adrienne.
“The prince always sits in a little room that opens upon a greenhouse. It is there that he will receive M. Rodin.”
“What then?” resumed Adrienne.
“This greenhouse, which I had arranged according to your orders, has only one issue—by a door leading into a little lane. The gardener gets in that way every morning, so as not to have to pass through the apartments. Having finished his work, he does not return thither during the day.”
“What do you mean? what is your project?” said Adrienne, looking at Florine with growing surprise.
“The plants are so disposed, that, I think, if even the shade were not there, which screens the glass that separates the saloon from the greenhouse, one might get near enough to hear what was passing in the room, without being seen. When I was superintending the arrangements, I always entered by this greenhouse door. The gardener had one key, and I another. Luckily, I have not yet parted with mine. Within an hour, you may know how far to trust M. Rodin. If he betrays the prince, he betrays you also.”