woman, sighing. "It is
well as it is; say no more about it."

"At least you should tell me what I should have to do in London,"
replied Bonacieux, who remembered a little too late that Rochefort had
desired him to endeavor to obtain his wife's secrets.

"It is of no use for you to know anything about it," said the young
woman, whom an instinctive mistrust now impelled to draw back. "It was
about one of those purchases that interest women--a purchase by which
much might have been gained."

But the more the young woman excused herself, the more important
Bonacieux thought the secret which she declined to confide to him. He
resolved then to hasten immediately to the residence of the Comte de
Rochefort, and tell him that the queen was seeking for a messenger to
send to London.

"Pardon me for quitting you, my dear Madame Bonacieux," said he; "but,
not knowing you would come to see me, I had made an engagement with a
friend. I shall soon return; and if you will wait only a few minutes for
me, as soon as I have concluded my business with that friend, as it is
growing late, I will come back and reconduct you to the Louvre."

"Thank you, monsieur, you are not brave enough to be of any use to me
whatever," replied Mme. Bonacieux. "I shall return very safely to the
Louvre all alone."

"As you please, Madame Bonacieux," said the ex-mercer. "Shall I see you
again soon?"

"Next week I hope my duties will afford me a little liberty, and I will
take advantage of it to come and put things in order here, as they must
necessarily be much deranged."

"Very well; I shall expect you. You are not angry with me?"

"Not the least in the world."

"Till then, then?"

"Till then."

Bonacieux kissed his wife's hand, and set off at a quick pace.

"Well," said Mme. Bonacieux, when her husband had shut the street door
and she found herself alone; "that imbecile lacked but one thing to
become a cardinalist. And I, who have answered for him to the queen--I,
who have promised my poor mistress--ah, my God, my God! She will take me
for one of those wretches with whom the palace swarms and who are placed
about her as spies! Ah, Monsieur Bonacieux, I never did love you much,
but now it is worse than ever. I hate you, and on my word you shall pay
for this!"

At the moment she spoke these words a rap on the ceiling made her raise
her head, and a voice which reached her through the ceiling cried, "Dear
Madame Bonacieux, open for me the littl