“I will say nothing more,” she replied very gently; “but I must tell you that none of us will ever forget the debt of gratitude which we owe you from this day. You say the great service which you are about to render us is not free from danger. Whatever may happen, you must remember, that, from this moment, you have in us devoted friends.” The interruption caused by his sisters had had the good effect of restoring to Mechinet a good portion of his habitual self-possession. He said,-- “I hope no harm will come of it; and yet I cannot conceal from you, madam, that the service which I am going to try to render you presents more difficulties than I thought.” “Great God!” murmured Dionysia. “M. Galpin,” the clerk went on saying, “is, perhaps, not exactly a superior man; but he understands his profession; he is cunning, and exceedingly suspicious. Only yesterday he told me that he knew the Boiscoran family would try every thing in the world to save M. de Boiscoran from justice. Hence he is all the time on the watch, and takes all kinds of precautions. If he dared to it, he would have his bed put across his cell in the prison.” “That man hates me, M. Mechinet!” “Oh, no, madam! But he is ambitious: he thinks his success in his profession depends upon his success in this case; and he is afraid the accused might escape or be carried off.” Mechinet was evidently in great perplexity, and scratched his ear. Then he added,-- “How am I to go about to let M. de Boiscoran have your note? If he knew beforehand, it would be easy. But he is unprepared. And then he is just as suspicious as M. Galpin. He is always afraid lest they prepare him a trap; and he is on the lookout. If I make him a sign, I fear he will not understand me; and, if I make him a sign, will not M. Galpin see it? That man is lynx-eyed.” “Are you never alone with M. de Boiscoran?” “Never for an instant, madam. I only go in with the magistrate, and I come out with him. You will say, perhaps, that in leaving, as I am behind, I might drop the note cleverly. But, when we leave, the jailer is there, and he has good eyes. I should have to dread, besides, M. de Boiscoran’s own suspicions. If he saw a letter coming to him in that way, from me, he is quite capable of handing it at once to M. Galpin.” He paused, and after a moment’s meditation he went on,-- “The safest way would probably be to win the confidence of M. Blangin, the keeper of the jail, or of some prisoner, whose duty it is to wait on M. de Boiscoran, and to watch him.” “Trumence!” exclaimed Dionysia. The clerk’s face expressed the most startled surprise. He said,-- “What! You know his name?” “Yes, I do; for Blangin mentioned him to me; and the name struck me the day when M. de Boiscoran’s mother and I went to the jail, not knowing what was meant by ‘close confinement.’” The clerk was disappointed.