"The day after the regent was nearly carried off in the Rue des Bons Enfants. Do you understand the apologue, gossip?"
"Yes; and why have you not told me before to-day?"
"Because his pockets were full then; they are now nearly empty, which is the time to find out where he will fill them again."
"And you wished to give him time to empty them?"
"And so they shall; even your captain. But you understand that I must know what he does?"
"I know her; she is as sharp as a needle."
"And he merits it. He has got the heart of a prince, not like you, old miser."
"Oh! you know that sometimes I am worse than the prodigal son, and it depends on you to make me so."
"Then day by day I shall know what your captain does?"
La Fillon was going toward the door, when at that moment an usher entered.
"Monseigneur," said he, "here is a man who wants to speak to your eminence."
"An employé of the royal library, who, in his spare time, makes copies."
"He says that he has an important revelation to make to your eminence."
"No, monseigneur; he says that it is a political affair."
"Send him in; and you, gossip, go into this closet."
"Suppose my writer and your captain should know each other?"
La Fillon entered the closet which Dubois showed her.
An instant afterward, the usher opened the door and announced Monsieur Jean Buvat.
We must now show how this important personage came to be received in private audience by the archbishop of Cambray.
We left Buvat going up to his own room, with his papers in his hand, to fulfill his promise to the Prince de Listhnay, and this promise was so scrupulously kept, that by seven o'clock the next evening the copy was finished and taken to the Rue du Bac. He then received from the same august hands some more work, which he returned with the same punctuality; so that the Prince de Listhnay, feeling confidence in a man who had given such proofs of exactitude, gave him at once sufficient papers to necessitate an interval of three or four days between this interview and the next. Buvat was delighted with this mark of confidence, and, on his return, set himself gayly to his work; and, although he found that he did not understand a word of Spanish, he could now read it fluently, and had become so accustomed to it, that he felt quite disappointed when he found among the copies one all in French. It had no number, and almost appeared to have slipped in by mistake; but he resolved, nevertheless, to copy it. He began with these lines: