"You are right," he said; "not being in French, you must understand it thoroughly before you can explain it to me. You'd better take the letter and go into Bendit's office; translate it as accurately as you can, writing it out so that you can read it to me. Don't lose a minute. I'm anxious to know what it contains." He called her back as she was leaving. "This letter relates to a personal matter," he said, "and I do not wish anyone to know about it ... understand ... no one. If anyone dares question you about it, you must say nothing, nor give them any inkling of what it is about. You see what confidence I place in you. I hope that you will prove yourself worthy of my trust. If you serve me faithfully, you may be sure that you will be taken care of." "I promise you, sir, that I'll deserve your trust," said Perrine, earnestly. "Very well; now hurry." But hurry she could not. She read the letter from beginning to end, then re-read it. Finally she took a large sheet of paper and commenced to write: "Dacca, May 29. "Honored Sir: "It is with great grief that I inform you that we have lost our Reverend Father Leclerc, to whom you wrote for certain important information. When dying he asked me to send a reply to your letter, and I regret that it could not have been sent earlier, but after a lapse of twelve years I have had some difficulty in getting the facts that you desire, and I must ask pardon for sending the information I now have in English, as my knowledge of French is very slight...." Perrine, who had only read this far to M. Vulfran, now stopped to read and correct what she had done. She was giving all her attention to her translation when the office door was opened by Theodore Paindavoine. He came into the room, closing the door after him, and asked for a French and English dictionary. This dictionary was opened before her. She closed it and handed it to him. "Are you not using it?" he asked, coming close to her. "Yes, but I can manage without it," she replied. "How's that?" "I really only need it to spell the French words correctly," she said, "and a French dictionary will do as well." She knew that he was standing just at the back of her, and although she could not see his eyes, being afraid to turn round, she felt that he was reading over her shoulder. "Ah, you're translating that letter from Dacca?" he said. She was surprised that he knew about this letter which was to be kept a secret. Then she realized that he was questioning her, and that his request for a dictionary was only a pretext. Why did he need an English dictionary if he could not understand a word of English? "Yes, monsieur," she said. "Is the translation coming along all right?" he asked. She felt that he was bending over her, that his eyes were fixed on what she had translated. Quickly she moved her paper, turning it so that he could only see it sideways.