He perceived this, and angrily exclaimed: "What are you
doing here? You are watching me, I do believe. Get back to your
kitchen, or----"
She fled in alarm, and he then entered his private office. His
heart was leaping with joy, and he laughed wickedly at the hope of
a speedy revenge. "She's on the scent," he muttered; "and she has
luck in her favor. She has chanced to apply to me on the very day
that I had resolved to defend and rehabilitate her lover, the
honest fool who allowed himself to be dishonored by those
unscrupulous blackguards. Just as I was thinking of going in
search of her, she comes to me. As I was about to write to her,
she writes to me. Who can deny the existence of Providence after
this?" Like many other people, M. Fortunat piously believed in
Providence when things went to his liking, but it is sad to add
that in the contrary case he denied its existence. "If she has
any courage," he resumed, "and she seems to have plenty of it,
Valorsay and Coralth will be in a tight place soon. And if it
takes ten thousand francs to put them there, and if neither
Mademoiselle Marguerite nor M. Ferailleur has the amount--ah,
well! I'll advance--well, at least five thousand--without charging
them any commission. I'll even pay the expenses out of my own
pocket, if necessary. Ah, my fine fellows, you've laughed too
soon.
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