secret agents
at the Ministry, with liberty to make special reports over the head of
Monsieur l'Inspecteur himself.

From that moment the latter official watched Mlle. Fouchette with a
vigilant eye; for under the spy system agents were employed to watch
and report the actions of other agents. This held good from the top of
the Secret Service down,--reminding one of the vermin of Hudibras
that--

"had fleas to bite 'em,
And these same fleas had lesser fleas,
So on ad infinitum."

In Mlle. Fouchette the government had found one of the lesser fleas,
but none the less sharp, shrewd, active, and unconscionable.

Up to a quite recent period.

Mlle. Fouchette's reports to the Prefecture had latterly betrayed a
laxity of interest that invited official attention, if they did not
call down upon her the official censure.

The girl was conscious of this. Half sullen, half defiant, she was
struggling under the weight of the new views of life recently
acquired. Like the rest of the intelligent world, whose wisdom chiefly
consists in unlearning what it has already learned, Mlle. Fouchette
was somewhat confused at the rapidity with which old ideas went to
pieces and new ideas crowded upon her mind.

Because--well, because of Jean Marot.

A single look from Inspector Loup before Jean would terrify her,--a
word would crush her.

She must have time.

And why did Inspector Loup come there in person as errand-boy unless
for another purpose? She thought of the secret agents who usually
accompanied Inspector Loup. She knew that at this moment they were
spread out below like the videttes of an army. They were down in the
Rue St. Jacques in their usual function of Inspector Loup's eyes that
saw everything and Inspector Loup's ears that heard everything.

This visit to Jean was a mere pretext that covered something more
important. Was it concerning Jean? Or, was it her? Perhaps Monsieur
l'Inspecteur wanted her,--a species of flattery which would have been
incense to her a month ago, and was now a terror.

It was only a few days since she had earned fifty francs and the
compliments of Inspector Loup. It was true, Monsieur de Beauchamp had
got away to Brussels, the centre of the Orleans conspiracy.

He was the first victim of the new ministry, and his flight indicated
the change of policy as to the well-known and openly tolerated
machinations of the royalists. Some of the more timid Orleanists in
Paris