"That girl is well fitted to enter one of these new companies of mousquetaires which are said to be forming; I am sure that she would march into fire without a tremor.—After all, I have no occasion for fear; although there are very few passers on this street, still there are some. I myself chose the place of rendezvous.—So the fair Valentine is still in love with the handsome Comte Léodgard! Hum! these women! when a passion has taken firm root in their heart, all the obstacles they encounter simply whet their appetite.—And that man who is waiting for me in his bathtub? Faith! let him wait! he will be all the cleaner for it! Besides, Plumard is with him; he will tell him lies to keep him patient. But money—all the money I want! That I know is a way of speaking; but still, the fair marchioness is generous—generous and amorous; and she flings her money away freely!"
Bahuchet had not been at his post twenty-five minutes, when he spied two women at the end of the street; one of them, enveloped in a cloak, and with her head covered by a thick veil, glanced occasionally to the right and left. They were the marchioness and her confidante. About fifty yards from Bahuchet, Valentine told Miretta to stop, and went forward alone toward the little ex-Basochian, who bowed low in the distance.
"Here I am, Monsieur Bahuchet; I have not kept you waiting too long, I hope?"
"No, madame. Oh! I knew that with madame la marquise I should not lose my time."
"Do not waste it in empty words. Will you undertake to carry this letter to the Comte de Marvejols?"
"With great pleasure, madame."
"Here it is; accept at the same time this purse, and my promise to give you twice as much as it contains if you bring me a reply from the count—a line written by him."
Bahuchet could hardly hold in his hand the purse that Valentine placed there, it was stuffed so full of gold pieces to its very mouth. He was dazzled; he gazed at the purse in respectful admiration; and when he heard the marchioness promise him twice as much more, his devotion could contain itself no longer, and he cried:
"You shall have a reply from monsieur le comte, madame! You shall have it, even if I have to write it myself!—No, not that; my zeal carries me away; I do not know what I am saying!—But, once more, madame, the count shall send you a reply; I will make it my business."
"You will take this letter to him at once?"