"Madame," I shouted, "go into the house! I do not want your speeches! Let go my hand, I say! I want to drive this rabble away!" But she clung tightly to me, and, seeing that I could not free myself of her, I caught her up in my arms, and carried her to her room. There I threw her upon her couch and said—"Don't move from this bed. You are trifling with your life!"
"Then stay here with me," she said, beseechingly; "don't go back among them!"
"Nonsense, I am able to protect and save you from a drunken mob, but from an attack of convulsions I could not save you! This might cost you your life."
At this word I fancied I saw a smile of contempt on her lips, and it occurred to me that she thought I feared for her life, because, in case of her death, I should have to return her money. "I wish they would come and tear me to pieces in her very presence," I thought, in the bitterness of my heart; but, to my surprise, no one came. The next minute or two furnished an explanation. I heard the sound of a bugle, then the clatter of horse-hoofs; the Imperial Guard itself had cleared the street of the mob. In a few minutes the shouts and threats were silenced, and the crowd had moved on to other quarters. Immediately afterward I heard voices in the salon, and, telling the woman to keep quiet and not stir, I entered the salon.
A police officer was talking with the valet. I thanked him for ridding me of my unpleasant visitors, who would undoubtedly have done harm to the furniture of the house, if not to our persons.
"Oh, that is past," said he, "but there is something else amiss; and I may tell you at once, sir, something that is very serious!"
"Serious to me?" I asked.
"Yes, the police have certain knowledge of the fact that you keep up a cipher correspondence with somebody in Brussels. You have received a letter a day or two ago."
"I know it. The letter had been opened by the police."
"Exactly. You have answered that letter, also in cipher, and the letter was posted not quite an hour ago."