Yvonne wrote rapidly. "Will this do?" she asked:
"Person mentioned in earlier message is probably decoying to Paris a Breton girl of twenty, Madeleine Demoret, from her home in Pont Aven. She is believed to be in train due Saint Lazare 2 A.M., is good-looking, slim, of medium height, and quietly dressed. You are besought to discover her, and use all possible means to convince her that she ought to return. Her friend Yvonne will meet her at Quimperlé on receipt of message, and promises that everything will be arranged satisfactorily. Her aunt, Madame Brissac, is grief-stricken and prostrate. Madeleine should come home if only for her sake."
"There, Mr. Raymond—can I add anything to make it stronger, more emphatic? Should I say that all expenses will be paid?"
"No," he said, bending over her, and resting his left hand on her shoulder. "That is quite clear and understandable. Any man of experience should read between the lines that the undertaking is vital and imperative to the last degree. If I were in trouble, Miss Yvonne, I wish I dared think that you would display such heartfelt interest in my affairs."
"You!" she cried, rising hurriedly. "You are one of the best of men! You hardly realize yet what good you are achieving. Mrs. Carmac, I am sure, will appreciate your kind action just as greatly as I do. Shall I take the telegram to the postoffice?"
"One moment. We have plenty of time. Should a message of that direct nature be despatched locally?"
Some of the light died out of the girl's eyes. The officials in the Pont Aven postoffice were discreet as any in France, and courteous beyond the average; but they all knew Madeleine! Still, Yvonne might be trusted to fight to the last ditch in her friend's behalf.
"There is a train to Quimperlé within half an hour," she said. "Someone must go. If necessary, I'll go myself. You are not fit to travel, Mr. Raymond. If only Lorry would come——"
"You may leave the mission in my hands, Miss Yvonne," said Raymond suavely. "Indeed, rather than risk the journey over that bumping tramway, I'll hire an automobile, and reach Quimperlé more quickly."
Barbe came in with a laden tray, and Raymond swallowed a cup of tea and ate some of Mère Pitou's famous cakes.