THE first thing that M. Vulfran did upon reaching his office in the morning was to open his mail. Domestic letters were arranged in one pile and foreign letters in another. Since he had gone blind his nephews or Talouel read the French mail aloud to him; the English letters were given to Fabry and the German to Mombleux.

The day following the conversation between Fabry and Mombleux which 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."

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 must understand it thoroughly before you can explain it to me. You'd better take the letter and go into Bendit's office; translate it as accurately as you can, writing it out so that you can read it to me. Don't lose a minute. I'm anxious to know what it contains."

He called her back as she was leaving.

"This letter relates to a personal matter," he said, "and I do not wish anyone to know about it ... understand ... no one. If anyone dares question you about it, you must say nothing, nor give them any inkling of what it is about. You see what confidence I place in you. I hope that you will prove yourself worthy of my trust. If you serve me faithfully, you may be sure that you will be taken care of."

"I promise you, sir, that I'll deserve your trust," said Perrine, earnestly.

"Very well; now hurry."

But hurry she could not. She read the letter from beginning to end, then re-read it. Finally she took a large sheet of paper and commenced to write:

"Dacca, May 29.

Perrine, who had only read this far to M. Vulfran, now stopped to read and correct what she had done. She was giving all her attention to her translation when the office door was opened by Theodore Paindavoine. He came into the room, closing the door after him, and asked for a French and English dictionary.

This dictionary was opened before her. She closed it and handed it to him.

"Are you not using it?" he asked, coming close to her.

"Yes, but I can manage without it," she replied.

"How's that?"

"I really only need it to spell the French words correctly," she said, "and a French dictionary will do as well."

She knew that he was standing just at the back of her, and although she could not see his eyes, being afraid to turn round, she felt that he was reading over her shoulder.

"Ah, you're translating that letter from Dacca?" he said.

She was surprised that he knew about this letter which was to be kept a secret. Then she realized that he was questioning her, and that his request for a dictionary was only a pretext. Why did he need an English dictionary if he could not understand a word of English?

"Yes, monsieur," she said.

"Is the translation coming along all right?" he asked.

She felt that he was bending over her, that his eyes were fixed on what she had translated. Quickly she moved her paper, turning it so that he could only see it sideways.

"Oh, please, sir," she exclaimed; "don't read it. It is not correct ... it is all confused. I was just trying."

"Oh, never mind that."

"Oh, but I do mind. I should be ashamed to let you see this."

He wanted to take the sheet of paper, but she put both her small hands over it. She determined to hold her own even with one of the heads of the house.

Until then he had spoken pleasantly to her.

"Now give it to me," he said briefly. "I'm not playing schoolmaster with a pretty little girl like you."

"But, sir, it is impossible; I can't let you see it," she said obstinately.

Laughingly he tried to take it from her, but she resisted him.

"No, I will not let you have it," she said with determination.

"Oh, this is a joke!" replied Theodore.

"It is not a joke; I am very serious," said little Perrine. "Monsieur Vulfran forbade me to let anyone see this letter. I am obeying him."

"It was I who opened it."

"The letter in English is not the translation."

"Oh, my uncle will show me this wonderful translation presently," he replied.

"If your uncle shows it, very well; but that won't be me showing it. He gave me his orders and I must obey him."

He saw by her resolute attitude that if he wanted the paper he would have to take it from her by force. But then, if he did so, she would probably call out. He did not dare go as far as that.

"I am delighted to see how faithfully you carry out my uncle's orders, even in trivial things," he said, sarcastically, leaving the room.

When he had gone and closed the door Perrine tried to go on with her work, but she was so upset she found it impossible to do so. She knew that Theodore was not delighted, as he had said, but furious. If he intended to make her pay for thwarting his will, how could she defend herself against such a powerful enemy? He could crush her with the first blow and she would have to leave.

The door was again opened and Talouel, with gliding step, came into the room. His eyes fell at once on the letter.

"Well, how is the translation of that letter from Dacca coming along?" he asked.

"I have only just commenced it," replied Perrine timidly.

"M. Theodore interrupted you just now. What did he want?"

"A French and English dictionary."

"What for? He doesn't know English."

"He did not tell me why he wanted it."

"Did he want to know what was in the letter?" asked Talouel.

"I had only commenced the first phrase," said Perrine, evasively.

"You don't ask me to believe that you have not read it?"

"I have not yet translated it."

"I ask you if you have read it."

"I cannot reply to that."

"Why not?"

"Because M. Vulfran has forbidden me to speak of this letter."

"You know very well that M. Vulfran and I are as one. All of his orders pass by me; all favors that he bestows are also passed by me. I have to know all that concerns him."

"Even his personal affairs?"

"Does that letter relate to personal affairs then?" asked Talouel.

She realized that she had let herself be caught.

"I did not say that," she said. "I said that in case it was a personal letter, ought I to let you know the contents?"

"I certainly should know," said Talouel, "if it relates to personal affairs. Do you know that he is ill from worrying over matters which might kill him? If he now received some news that might cause him great sorrow or great joy, it might prove fatal to him. He must not be told anything suddenly. That is why I ought to know beforehand anything that concerns him, so as to prepare him. I could not do that if you read your translation straight off to him."

He said this in a suave, insinuating voice, very different from his ordinary rough tones.

She was silent, looking up at him with an emotion which made her very pale.

"I hope that you are intelligent enough to understand what I am telling you," he continued. "It is important for us, for the entire town, who depend upon M. Vulfran for a livelihood, to consider his health. See what a good job you have now with him; in time it will be much better. We, every one of us, must work for his good. He looks strong, but he is not so strong as he appears, so much sor row has undermined his health; and then the loss of his sight depresses him terribly. He places every confidence in me, and I must see that nothing hurts him."

If Perrine had not known Talouel she might have been won by his words; but after what she had heard the factory girls say about him, and the talk that she had overheard between Fabry and Mombleux, who were men able to judge character, she felt that she could not believe in him. He was not sincere. He wanted to make her talk, and he would attempt any deceit and hypocrisy to gain his object.

M. Vulfran had told her that if she were questioned she must not let anyone know the contents of the letter. Evidently he had foreseen what might happen. She must obey him.

Talouel, leaning on her desk, fixed his eyes on her face. She needed all her courage; it seemed as though he were trying to hypnotize her. In a hoarse voice which betrayed her emotion, but which did not tremble, however, she said:

"Monsieur Vulfran forbade me to speak of this letter to anyone."

Her determined attitude made him furious, but controlling himself, he leaned over her again and said gently, but firmly: "Yes, of course; but then I'm not anyone. I am his other self."

She did not reply.

"Are you a fool?" he cried at last in a stifled voice.

"Perhaps I am," she said.

"Well, then, understand," he said, roughly, "you'd better show some intelligence if you want to hold this job that M. Vulfran has given you. If you haven't any intelligence you can't hold the job, and instead of protecting you, as I intended, it will be my duty to pack you off ... fire you! Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, think about it; think what your position is today and think what it will be tomorrow, turned out in the streets; then let me know what you decide to do. Tell me this evening."

Then as she showed no signs of weakening, he went out of the room with the same gliding step with which he had entered.