'She has been refused, and now she is at Versailles.'
'At Versailles!'
'Yes, monsieur. It seems that she has a friend there, one of the delegates to the National Assembly.'
'To the States-General,' corrected the Intendant.
'To be sure, you are right. Well, she has taken up her abode with him. He was an old friend.'
'What is his name?'
'You will probably know him. He is from Bernay, a curé there. His name is Lindet.'
Berthier nodded, and an angry flush over-spread his brow.
'Now you know very well that you cannot, and dare not, attempt to remove the girl from the house of a delegate at Versailles; so I shall do that myself. I shall draw her to my house; but that will take time, as you have scared her with your gendarmes. My faith! if you want to snare pigeons, do you set up scarecrows near your nets?—but let that pass. I shall do my best to bring her to my house, and whilst she is there, entrust her to me; do not show your face in the neighbourhood, do not let a gendarme be seen within my door, and in one month, one day, and one hour, the girl will rush of her own accord into your arms.'