There was nothing to find and he expected nothing, yet he proceeded on his business with the utmost care and the most painstaking minuteness.
In the middle of his work, he was interrupted by the valet, who knocked at the door.
“Monsieur,” said the valet, “there is a young girl who has called. She is waiting outside.”
“Ah, she is waiting—well, show her in.”
The man disappeared, and returned in a moment ushering in Javotte.
Lavenne looked up from some papers which he was examining. Javotte’s appearance rather astonished him. Young, fresh, and evidently respectable, he could not for a moment place her among possible visitors to Rochefort. Then it occurred to him that she might be the maid of some society woman sent with a message, and, without rising from his seat, he pointed to a chair.
“What is your business here, mademoiselle?” asked Lavenne.
“My business, monsieur, is to pay the last month’s wages of Monsieur de Rochefort’s valet. I have the money here with me. May I ask whom I have the pleasure of addressing?”
“You are addressing an agent of the Hôtel de Sartines. Place the money on the table, mademoiselle, and it shall be handed to the valet. And now a moment’s conversation with you, please. Who, may I ask, entrusted you with this commission?”
“Monsieur,” replied Javotte, “that is my business entirely.”