Nathalie waited impatiently for the next day, and for the hour of her husband’s departure. At last, the time came—the pursuit is going on—Nathalie counted the moments. After three-quarters of an hour, the messenger arrived, covered with dust.
“Well,” exclaimed Nathalie, “speak! Tell me everything that you have seen!”
“Madame, I followed M. d’Apremont, at a distance, as far as the Rue Vieille du Temple, where he entered a small house, in an alley. There was no servant to let him in.”
“An alley! No servant! Dreadful!”
“I went in directly after him, and heard him go up-stairs and unlock a door.”
“Open the door himself, without knocking! Are you sure of that?”
“Yes, madame.”
“The wretch! So he has a key! But, go on.”
“When the door shut after him, I stole softly up-stairs, and peeped through the keyhole.”
“You shall have twenty francs more.”