"Yes, monsieur," said Bilbette hesitantly.
"Read this letter; your father's life depends upon it."
She seized the letter and read it with the liveliest zeal:
"Go this minute to the Rue Silencieuse, enter house n° 13, and ask the concierge for the key to the fifth floor, being sure to utter the password 'Idrille Piaf.' Go to the fifth floor, enter the apartment, and take from the mantelpiece a little grey box of wood, unadorned save the rune S upon the lid, and take it to your father. He must receive it before eleven o'clock. I need not remind you of your promise to obey me blindly.
All that is gold does not glitter; not all those who wander are lost.
"ÉARENDEAU LE MARIN"PS. Never mind the nail polish."
Bilbette uttered a cry of joy; but the stranger was gone.
As she left, accompanied by Armalvéguil, Meurtrier, the son of Morrie, entered the latter's studio. Morrie, having seen the black ships of his most pitiless creditors, had reached the final stage of utter and complete despair.
