“Oh, thank you. Talk now of something else.”
I said, “Yes, in a moment.” It occurred to me that I might use Merton. “My friend will be in our army uniform, an entirely unsuspected man. How pretty those flowers are!”
I found her charming, a widow, and if I might judge from her jewels, one at ease in regard to money. Before we left, after dinner, I had a few minutes more of talk with her in the drawing-room. She was free from the look of care I had observed when presented.
“Good-by,” I said, as we parted, “and be assured that you have friends.”
“Oh, thank you!” she murmured. “But I am involving others in my difficulties. I wish I had never done it. Good night.” I went home, curious and perplexed.
Early in the morning of the next day I went to the rooms of our first secretary. In reply to my request, he said he had two cards for the ball at my disposal, and would arrange matters with the master of ceremonies. I accepted one card for Merton, and went away well pleased and regretful that I found it better, as she had done, to leave this singular errand to another.
I made haste to call on Merton, and finding him in, related my fortunate meeting with Mme. Bellegarde, and told him what she expected us to do. He was much pleased, and I happy in finding for our purpose a man whom no one was likely to watch. I urged him, however, to be cautious, and went away, arranging that he should call on me after the ball, even though his visit might be far on in the night. I was too curious and too anxious to wait longer.
It was after three in the morning when he aroused me from the nap into which I had fallen.
“By George!” he cried, “she is a delightful and a brave woman. I told you so; but, good heavens! she is in a sad scrape.”
“Well, what is it? Has she robbed the Bank of France?”