messieurs the guards, as you call them, have only just
commenced their sleep, and that a cannon would not waken
them; you know that Madame's bell can be heard at the bridge
of Blois, and that consequently I shall hear it when my
services are required by Madame. What annoys you, my child,
is that I laugh while you are writing; and what you are
afraid of is that Madame de Saint-Remy, your mother, should
come up here, as she does sometimes when we laugh too loud,
that she should surprise us, and that she should see that
enormous sheet of paper upon which, in a quarter of an hour,
you have only traced the words Monsieur Raoul. Now, you are
right, my dear Louise, because after these words, `Monsieur
Raoul,' others may be put so significant and so incendiary
as to cause Madame de Saint-Remy to burst out into fire and
flames! Hein! is not that true now? -- say."

And Montalais redoubled her laughter and noisy provocations.

The fair girl at length became quite angry; she tore the
sheet of paper on which, in fact, the words "Monsieur Raoul"
were written in good characters, and crushing the paper in
her trembling hands, she threw it out of the window.

"There! there!" said Mademoiselle de Montalais; "there is
our little lamb, our gentle dove, angry! Don't be afraid,
Louise -- Madame de Saint-Remy will not come; and if she
should, you know I have a quick ear. Besides, what can be
more permissible than to write to an old friend of twelve
years' standing, particularly when the letter begins with
the words `Monsieur Raoul'?"