"Of a Frenchman," monsieur finished, as he folded the sheets and sealed the envelope.
"And now," he continued, as he addressed it to Monsieur Roché and handed it to me, "there is a favor I must crave of you. I am an implacable enemy, but, I hope, not a false friend. You must give me twenty-four hours, so that the plans I have matured may not be frustrated."
"I scarcely comprehend, monsieur."
"If a man has been an enemy to Monsieur Roché, and an ally with me, I must protect him."
"That is your only object?"
"You have my word, madame."
"Then you have mine, monsieur. This letter shall not be delivered until to-morrow evening."
He raised my fingers to his lips with a smile of satisfaction, and I, having whispered to mademoiselle that after all it was scarcely worth while mentioning Martinique, and gained a smile of mingled thanks and forgiveness, departed, satisfied with the success of my mission, and happy in the knowledge that I had played for the highest stakes that it had been my lot to know—played and won.
There are Boulevard cynics who would declare that, being a woman, I must be miserable because I did not know the name of the thief or the miraculous method he employed. Others, more cynical still, who would say that I cared nothing, because I counted upon coaxing all from mon cher Gaspard; but it would be false. I cared nothing for him who had stolen; my thoughts were all with him whose honor I had saved. For that reason I grudged the delay, but, tried more sorely than ever in my life before, it was not until the following night, enclosed with a note of my own, that I sent Monsieur Desormes's confession to Monsieur Roché.
And as I sat after it had gone, still free from curiosity as to the thief, still proud of my success for Gaspard's sake, the thought, for the first time, came that the Premier was also deeply indebted to me, for his ministry was saved.