He held in his hand something which resembled a letter.
"What is that?" demanded Favourite.
The waiter replied:--
"It is a paper that those gentlemen left for these ladies."
"Why did you not bring it at once?"
"Because," said the waiter, "the gentlemen ordered me not to deliver it to the ladies for an hour."
Favourite snatched the paper from the waiter''s hand.
It was, in fact, a letter.
"Stop!" said she; "there is no address; but this is what is written on it--"
"THIS IS THE SURPRISE."
She tore the letter open hastily, opened it, and read [she knew how to read]:--
"OUR BELOVED:--
"You must know that we have parents.
Parents--you do not know much about such things.
They are called fathers and mothers by the civil code, which is puerile and honest.
Now, these parents groan, these old folks implore us, these good men and these good women call us prodigal sons; they desire our return, and offer to kill calves for us.Being virtuous, we obey them.
At the hour when you read this, five fiery horses will be bearing us to our papas and mammas.
We are pulling up our stakes, as Bossuet says.
We are going; we are gone.We flee in the arms of Lafitte and on the wings of Caillard.The Toulouse diligence tears us from the abyss, and the abyss is you, O our little beauties!