ich had
caused Perrine so much anxiety, M. Vulfran, his nephews and the manager
were occupied with the morning's mail. Suddenly Theodore exclaimed:

"A letter from Dacca, dated May 29."

"In French?" demanded M. Vulfran.

"No, in English."

"What signature?"

"It's not very clear ... looks like Field. Fildes ... preceded by a word
that I can't make out. There are four pages. Your name occurs in several
places, uncle. Shall I give it to Fabry?"

Simultaneously, Theodore and Talouel cast a quick look at M. Vulfran,
but catching each other in this act, which betrayed that each was
intensely curious, they both assumed an indifferent air.

"I'm putting the letter on your table, uncle," said Theodore.

"Give it to me," replied M. Vulfran.

When the stenographer had gone off with the replies to the various
letters, M. Vulfran dismissed his manager and his two nephews and rang
for Perrine.

She appeared immediately.

"What's in the letter?" he asked.

She took the letter that he handed to her and glanced at it. If he could
have seen her he would have noticed that she had turned very pale and
that her hands trembled.

"It is an English letter, dated May 29, from Dacca," she replied.

"From whom?"

"From Father Fields."

"What does it say?"

"May I read a few lines first, please ... before I tell you?"

"Yes, but do it quickly."

She tried to do as she was told, but her emotion increased as she read
... the words dancing before her eyes.

"Well?" demanded M. Vulfran, impatiently.

"It is difficult to read," she murmured, "and difficult to understand;
the sentences are very long."

"Don't translate literally; just tell me what it is about."

[Illustration: SHE TRIED TO DO AS SHE WAS TOLD, BUT HER EMOTION
INCREASED AS SHE READ.]

There was another long pause; at last she said:

"Father Fields says that Father Leclerc, to whom you wrote, is dead, and
that before dying he asked him to send this reply to you. He was
unable to communicate with you before, as he had some difficulty in
getting together the facts that you desired. He excuses himself for
writing in English, as his knowledge of French is very slight."

"What information does he send?" asked the blind man.

"I have not come to that yet, sir," replied Perrine.

Although little Perrine gave this reply in a very gentle voice, the
blind man knew that he would gain nothing by hurrying her.

"You are right," he said; "not being in French, you