“Take your money back again, madam. If I were to do what you want me to do, if I were to betray my duty for money, I should be the meanest of men. If, on the other hand, I am actuated only by a sincere conviction and an interest in the truth, I may be looked upon as a fool; but I shall always be worthy of the esteem of honorable men. Take back that fortune, madam, which has made an honest man waver for a moment in his conscience. I will do what you ask, but for nothing.” If grandpapa was getting tired of walking up and down in the Square, the sisters of Mechinet found time pass still more slowly in their workroom. They asked each other,-- “What can Miss Dionysia have to say to brother?” At the end of ten minutes, their curiosity, stimulated by the most absurd suppositions, had become such martyrdom to them, that they made up their minds to knock at the clerk’s door. “Ah, leave me alone!” he cried out, angry at being thus interrupted. But then he considered a moment, opened hastily, and said quite gently,-- “Go back to your room, my dear sisters, and, if you wish to spare me a very serious embarrassment, never tell anybody in this world that Miss Chandore has had a conversation with me.” Trained to obey, the two sisters went back, but not so promptly that they should have not seen the bonds which Dionysia had thrown upon the table, and which were quite familiar in their appearance to them, as they had once owned some of them themselves. Their burning desire to know was thus combined with vague terror; and, when they got back to their room, the younger asked,-- “Did you see?” “Yes, those bonds,” replied the other. “There must have been five or six hundred.” “Even more, perhaps.” “That is to say, a very big sum of money.” “An enormous one.” “What can that mean, Holy Virgin! And what have we to expect?” “And brother asking us to keep his secret!” “He looked as pale as his shirt, and terribly distressed.” “Miss Dionysia was crying like a Magdalen.” It was so. Dionysia, as long as she had been uncertain of the result, had felt in her heart that Jacques’s safety depended on her courage and her presence of mind. But now, assured of success, she could no longer control her excitement; and, overcome by the effort, she had sunk down on a chair and burst out into tears. The clerk shut the door, and looked at her for some time; then, having overcome his own emotions, he said to her,-- “Madame.” But, as she heard his voice, she jumped up, and taking his hands into hers, she broke out,-- “O sir! How can I thank you! How can I ever make you aware of the depth of my gratitude!” “Don’t speak of that,” he said almost rudely, trying to conceal his deep feeling.