Irène extended her hand, and the clown knelt to kiss it.
"But we must save him!" cried Irène. "He shall not be condemned—"
"Condemned?" said a voice. "Of whom do you speak?"
Francine, obeying an impulse, had thrown on a peignoir of white cashmere, and appeared, white and trembling, at the door. Irène ran to her side.
"Courage! sister," she cried, "courage!"
Then Irène herself gave way, and burst into passionate weeping. Francine took her brother's letter and read it slowly, but when she came to the words "little Jacques" and "Cinette," her eyes closed, and she would have fallen had not Bobichel caught her.
"You must not cry like that!" he said. "You must not weep. We will save Fanfar! Please, Mademoiselle Irène, read the letter Iron Jaws sends you. He has an idea, and he knows what he is about. He will save Fanfar!"
Bobichel's confidence was so great, his honest affection was so apparent, that the two girls exchanged a hopeful glance.
"Read!" said Francine.