Thanks to the assistance of one of my
friends," added the letter "I can place this proud damsel in a perilous,
terribly perilous position, from which she cannot possibly extricate
herself unaided. But, just as she gives herself up for lost, I shall
interpose. I shall save her; and it will be strange if gratitude does
not work the necessary miracle in my favor. The plan is certain to
succeed. Still, it will be all the better if the physician who attended
M. de C---- in his last moments, and whom you spoke to me about (Dr.
Jodon, if I remember rightly), will consent to lend us a helping hand.
What kind of a man is he? If he is accessible to the seductive influence
of a few thousand francs, I shall consider the business as good as
concluded. Your conduct up to the present time has been a chef-d'oeuvre,
for which you shall be amply compensated. You have cause to know that
I am not ungrateful. Let the F's continue their intrigues, and even
pretend to favor them. I am not afraid of these people. I understand
their game perfectly, and know why they wish my little one to marry
their son. But when they become troublesome, I shall crush them like
glass. In spite of these explanations, which I have just given you for
your guidance, it is very necessary that I should see you. I shall look
for you on Tuesday afternoon, between three and four o'clock. Above all,
don't fail to bring me the desired information respecting Dr. Jodon. I
am, my dear madame, devotedly yours--V." Below ran a postscript which
read as follows: "When you come on Tuesday bring this letter with you.
We will burn it together. Don't imagine that I distrust you--but there
is nothing so dangerous as letters."

For some time Marguerite stood, stunned and appalled by the Marquis de
Valorsay's audacity, and by the language of this letter, which was at
once so obscure and so clear, every line of it threatening her future.
The reality surpassed her worst apprehensions, but realizing the gravity
of the situation, she shook off the torpor stealing over her. She felt
that every second was precious, and that she must act, and act at once.
But what should she do? Simply return the letter to its place, and
continue to act the role of a dupe, as if nothing had happened? No; that
must not be. It would be madness not to seize this flagrant proof of
the Marquis de Valorsay's infamy. But on the other hand, if she kept
the letter, Madame Leon would immediately discover its loss, and a