“Pardi, yes! I was there when they brought her. It was—let me see—a week ago to-day.”
“A week—and we have been looking for her three days; oh! it must be she! Is this young lady pretty?”
“Lovely, and she don’t look like a country wench like the other. They made her believe that she was at a Monsieur de Monfréville’s house; then that old vagabond of a Poterne went off and found, I don’t know where, an old woman to play concierge; and they kicked me out.”
“Did they call her by name before you?”
“Wait a minute—I remember now that, when they arrived, Monsieur Daréna said, as he brought the girl into the house:
“‘This is my friend Marquis Chérubin’s foster-sister.’”
“It is she! Ah! the villains! I’ll make them give her back to me! Poor Louise! in that infamous Daréna’s hands for a week! God grant that I may arrive in time!”
“Take me with you. If you appear at the door, they won’t let you in.”
“I’ll break the door down.”
“Oh! it’s too strong; but I promise you that I’ll find a way to make them open it.”