"Certainly, madame; we are hid here as if in Abraham's bosom."
The lady drank the bouillon, and then said:
"Will you please show me my room?"
"Yes, madame! I hope it will please you," replied the woman, as she walked up the stairs, followed by the lady.
Here she opened a door, and the stranger looked in and saw a large, plainly furnished room. At one side stood a snow-white bed, a washstand, some chairs, and an old-fashioned bureau.
"Does this closet lock?" asked Madame Danglars, examining the lock. "I have a jewel-case in the coach which I would like to bring to a place of security."
"Ah, the closet is as safe as the poor-box," the old lady assured her.
The lady nodded her pleasure at this, and, after she had convinced herself that the door of the room was in order, she went back to the coach, took a portfolio from the jewel-casket, and brought it to the vicarage. The old lady awaited her at the door; Madame Danglars walked past her and went to the upper story, opened the closet, put the box in it, closed the door carefully, and put both keys in her pocket. She then went downstairs again, and, turning to the old woman, said:
"For the present, good-by; I shall probably be back again before night."
"Good-by, madame; but do not stay out too late. A storm is coming up, and the roads of Oliolles are dangerous at night."