Finally the letter that they had dreaded so long came. Full of foreboding, the master tore open the envelope and read as follows:
"My dear Monsieur, the Poet:
"I can never tell you with mere pen and paper what joy your letter gave me. To think that my dear Pierre is still alive and well, and as happy as he could ever be without his mistress.
"The poor little beggar! What must he not have suffered! I never played worse in my whole life, not even when I was young, than the week following the day that I lost him. That stupid Marie! I could have wrung her neck with relish, but she is a fine servant, and I could not spare her.
"What hardship my darling must have seen before he found his kind friends! Think of it, Monsieur, he always had his bath and his combing every morning as regularly as I did. But he was a rogue, Monsieur. That must have been why I loved him so. But, thanks to his kind friends, I shall soon see him again."
