"Out with it then," she said. "What is it?"
"Mademoiselle, I'll tell you with much pleasure; but it's a long story, and I must go into a good many houses this morning. If you would let me tell it to you this evening at your house, that would be better, for I dare not say all that in the street; some one might hear me and take me for a sorcerer, and I'm very much afraid of the Chambre Ardente. God knows, however, mademoiselle, that I understand nothing of magic, and I'm more afraid of the devil than I am of men."
"Oh," said Marguerite, whose curiosity had reached an unbearable point, "this mystery of yours is of itself extraordinary?"
"Yes, mademoiselle."
"Indeed! Well, this is very embarrassing; to receive you in the house is difficult. Where do you live, my child?"
Urbain hesitated for a moment, then replied:—
"Near the Porte Saint-Antoine."
"Oh, good heavens—that's more than a league from here. I could never get there; my master's a very strict man and doesn't wish that anyone should have visitors."
Marguerite reflected for some moments, then her curiosity carried the day.
"Well," said she at last, "come this evening at seven o'clock; it'll be dark; but look well at that house over there—that alleyway."