The cook arrived a few minutes later and produced first-rate characters,
signed by people with whom it was easy to take up her references. She
was a very active woman, although of a certain age, and agreed to do the
work of the house by herself, without the help of a man-servant, this
being a condition upon which Daubrecq insisted.

Her last place was with a member of the Chamber of Deputies, Comte
Saulevat, to whom Daubrecq at once telephoned. The count's steward gave
her a perfect character, and she was engaged.

As soon as she had fetched her trunk, she set to work and cleaned and
scrubbed until it was time to cook the dinner.

Daubrecq dined and went out.

At eleven o'clock, after the portress had gone to bed, the cook
cautiously opened the garden-gate. A man came up.

"Is that you?" she asked.

"Yes, it's I, Lupin."

She took him to her bedroom on the third floor, overlooking the garden,
and at once burst into lamentations:

"More of your tricks and nothing but tricks! Why can't you leave me
alone, instead of sending me to do your dirty work?"

"How can I help it, you dear old Victoire? [*] When I want a person of
respectable appearance and incorruptible morals, I think of you. You
ought to be flattered."

* See The Hollow Needle by Maurice Leblanc, translated by
Alexander Teixeira de Mattos, and later volumes of the Lupin
series.

"That's all you care about me!" she cried. "You run me into danger once
more; and you think it's funny!"

"What are you risking?"

"How do you mean, what am I risking? All my characters are false."

"Characters are always false."

"And suppose M. Daubrecq finds out? Suppose he makes inquiries?"

"He has made inquiries."

"Eh? What's that?"

"He has telephoned to the steward of Comte Saulevat, in whose service
you say that you have had the honour of being."

"There, you see, I'm done for!"

"The count's steward could not say enough in your praise."

"He does not know me."

"But I know him. I got him his situation with Comte Saulevat. So you
understand..."

Victoire seemed to calm down a little:

"Well," she said, "God's will be done... or rather yours. And what do
you expect me to do in all this?"

"First, to put me up. You were my wet-nurse once. You can very well give
me half your room now. I'll sleep in the armchair."

"And next?"

"Next? To supply me with such food as I want."

"And next?"

"Next? To undertake, with me and und