"But," said Francine, "who was it who saved me?"

"Do you not know?" answered Irene, coloring deeply.

"No, I heard you mention a name that I do not know."

"Yes, that of Monsieur Fanfar."

"Who is he?"

Irene looked at her and wondered if in her fever the girl's reason had deserted her.

"I do not understand. Do you not know your brother?"

"My brother!"

Irene pa.s.sed her hand over her troubled brow.

"My brother. Ah! what is it you say? I never had but one brother, dear little Jacques, who was always so good and kind to me!"

"Jacques! but that is the name of--Monsieur Fanfar!"

"I tell you," answered Francine, "that I never met any one of that name.

Stop a moment, I remember a company of mountebanks on the Square; they were under the management of a man called Iron Jaws, and with him was this Fanfar, if I don't mistake."

"Precisely, and this Fanfar is your brother, I heard him say so, himself, when I went to help you. He said to me, 'she is my sister--'"

"Where is he? I must see him. He saved my life. Suppose that he is Jacques! But no, poor Jacques is dead!"

Irene could not help the poor girl; although she fully believed in the truth of what Fanfar had said, she could offer no proof.

Suddenly Francine exclaimed, "If he is my Jacques, he ought to be about twenty. He ought to be very handsome."

Irene colored, as she said, "He is handsome!"

"With black eyes, and brown curling hair?"

Irene was unwilling to admit that she had studied Fanfar in all these details, but she stammered out, "Yes, that describes him."

"For pity's sake, tell me all you know!"

Irene asked herself why she should hesitate. After all there was nothing to be ashamed of in her sentiments towards Fanfar.

"I will tell you all," she said, in a low voice.

"Why are you so disturbed?" asked Francine. "When you mention the name of this Fanfar, you have tears in your eyes."

Irene buried her face on her friend's shoulder: "I love him!" she whispered, "and I love you as if you were my sister!"

The two young girls embraced each other tenderly.

"But where is he?" said Francine, disengaging herself, "I wish to see him."

Irene started. Alas! amid all these emotions she had forgotten the sad truth that the brother, whom Francine ardently desired to embrace, was in a narrow cell, crushed under the accusation of an attempt on the life of the king.

"Why do you not tell me where I can find him?" asked Francine, her eyes bright with fever.

At this moment the door opened, and a tall and stately individual, known as Madame Ursula, made a sign to Irene, who instantly obeyed the summons, glad to avoid the necessity of replying to Francine's questions.

"What is it?" she said.

Madame Ursula was unchanged. She was still in a constant state of horror at Irene's conduct and defiance of conventionalities.

"A very strange looking man wishes to speak to the young lady."

"She can not receive him," replied Irene, promptly.

"So I supposed, but I delivered the message because I thought she knew this person, and I myself have seen him before." Madame Ursula looked down in some confusion. "He was pretending to be a frog, on a certain occasion--"

"I do not understand you."

"He is one of those clowns who amused the peasants at Saint Ame."

"His name! his name!" cried Irene, impatiently.

"I don't know his name. He wore a gray hat--"

"Bobichel! It must be Bobichel!"

Irene had forgotten none of these names.

"Let him come in!" she cried. "Let him come in!"

In another moment Bobichel appeared. Was this the poor clown? No; there were no smiles on his lips, no quips and cranks on his tongue. His thinness had become emaciation.

Irene went forward.

"You come from him?" she said, hastily.

"From Fanfar? Oh! no--not directly, at least. They won't let me see him, you know."

"Who sends you here, then?"

"Gudel--Iron Jaws, you know."

"Why did he not come himself?"

"Ah! that I can't say. Gudel bade me give this note to you."

Irene broke the seal. The envelope contained two letters. One was directed to "Miss _Irainne_," the other to "Mademoiselle de Salves." Why did she open the latter? Did she know from the defective orthography that the first could not come from Fanfar? The letter she opened was from Fanfar. This was it: