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The wretched woman trembled and recoiled, while the young man, putting his ear to Girdel's breast, exclaimed: "Thank God, he lives!" Caillette uttered a low moan and became unconscious; two soft hands were laid tenderly on her shoulders, and when the tight-rope dancer opened her eyes, she looked in Irene's face, who was bending anxiously over her.
"A man called Robeckal; he is a member of Girdel's troupe." "Good." The marquis took out a note-book, wrote a few lines, and then said: "Here, take this note, Simon, and accompany Robeckal at once to Remiremont. There you will go to the Count of Vernac, the police superintendent, and give him the note.
Further and further horse and rider flew; before Fanfaro's eyes stood Girdel's pale, motionless face, and he thought he could hear Caillette's bitter sobs. No, he must bring help or else go under, and ceaselessly, like lightning, he pushed on toward the city. The marquis and Simon ran breathlessly along. Their only thought was to get far from the neighborhood of the old man and his wolf-hound.
They are members of a secret organization, which is directed against the monarchy." "Impossible; it cannot be!" groaned Schwan. "I will conduct the gentlemen," said Robeckal, coming forward. "Scoundrel!" muttered the host, while Robeckal preceded the policemen up the stairs, and pointed to Girdel's room. "Open!" cried the brigadier, knocking at the door with the hilt of his sword.
Not until now, when he found himself in the presence of his judges, had he comprehended that it might cost him his head, and his bold assurance gave way to cowardly despair. Fanfaro answered the questions put to him briefly and clearly. He described Robeckal's actions during the time he had been a member of Girdel's troupe.
"H'm that would be difficult," said Girdel, looking about. "Of course I shall pay extra for the seats," continued the young lady. "We have only one price for the front rows," said Firejaws, simply; "they cost twenty sous and the rear seats ten sous." The governess sighed sorrowfully; Irene took an elegant purse from her pocket and pressed it in Girdel's hand.
It was a wild caprice which had induced the young girl to attend Girdel's performance; Fanfaro's lecture had angered her at first, but later on, when she thought about it, she had to confess that he was right.
"That's so!" exclaimed Irene blushing, and unfolding Girdel's letter she read the following words, written in an original orthographical style: "We must reskue Fanfaro and this is only posibel in one way. You have great inflooence; try to make the thing which Popichel will give you all right, but not until after the trial, which will take place in two days. I trust in you.
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