He or she who can bid a genuine farewell to hope is forlorn indeed. If this mental condition was to continue, the conspirators had nought to do but to sit with idle hands and wait. Either their victim would become insane, or fade and die without assistance from them. It is said that the fascinated bird feels neither pain nor fear, but looks forward with complacency to being swallowed. Toinon, being wrought of stronger stuff, had no idea of abandoning hope. She boiled with healthy wrath against the selfish old hag who was gone, and anger was a fillip to her energy. The abigail had laid herself out to be particularly agreeable during the last few days, had permitted a certain lacquey of the maréchale's sundry liberties, had even kissed him in the dark, and vowed to be his alone. This reprehensible levity served various ends. It kept up her spirits, and was a satisfactory revenge on absent Jean; passed time agreeably, and made of the man her slave. Having settled to eat humble pie with regard to the recalcitrant Boulot, and condone his enormities, a difficulty arose as to how he was to be communicated with. She knew that since the accusation about the cakes her steps had been dogged, her movements watched; and were she to openly indite epistles to the Jacobin, they would surely be intercepted by the conspirators. Gracefully grouped together on the stairs after the household were abed, the abigail and her admirer whispered fervid vows, and embraced each other tenderly. She could not leave her lady's service just at present, she explained, but would seek the earliest opportunity if the swain would promise to be true. She was full of crotchets. Never, no never, would she give her hand without the consent of her dearest brother, who was at Blois. He loved his little sister too well, however, to withhold consent where her heart was entirely given. But his consent must be obtained, and till it came, there must be no further dallying. How was his consent to be speedily obtained? She would indite a little letter to her brother, and, lest there should be delays she would not put her letter in the post. The invaluable missive should be confided to the swain, and money with it, that at the first posthouse on the road, when the maréchale's party left Lorge, he should transmit it by the hand of a horseman. Toinon was not above taking a lesson from her mistress and sending a summons to Jean on the sly, as the marquise had to her father. The old lady was gone, and the swain was gone, and naughty Toinon felt not the least compunction for fooling the simple fellow. If some day he were to make inconvenient claims, was not Jean Boulot burly enough to protect her? She had adjured the latter in the most solemn manner to leave all and come at once if he ever felt a spark of love for her or a scintilla of respect for her mistress.