I expected, also, that Madame d'Arlange would keep Schmidt with
her."
"Excuse me, mademoiselle," interrupted M. Daburon, "what day did you
write to M. Albert?"
"On Tuesday."
"Can you fix the hour?"
"I must have sent the letter between two and three o'clock."
"Thanks, mademoiselle. Continue, I pray."
"All my anticipations," continued Claire, "were realised. I retired
during the evening, and I went into the garden a little before the
appointed time. I had procured the key of the little door; and I at
once tried it. Unfortunately, I could not make it turn, the lock was so
rusty. I exerted all my strength in vain. I was in despair, when nine
o'clock struck. At the third stroke, Albert knocked. I told him of the
accident; and I threw him the key, that he might try and unlock the
door. He tried, but without success. I then begged him to postpone our
interview. He replied that it was impossible, that what he had to say
admitted of no delay; that, during three days he had hesitated about
confiding in me, and had suffered martyrdom, and that he could endure it
no longer. We were speaking, you must understand, through the door. At
last, he declared that he would climb over the wall.
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