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Updated: May 15, 2025
All the servants and laborers on the Champdoce estate were gathered together in a group, talking eagerly to each other, and as soon as M. de Puymandour appeared, one of the servants, disengaging himself from his fellows, came towards him. This was the Duke's old, trustworthy servant. "Well?" exclaimed M. de Puymandour.
With the aid of a powerful magnifying glass, I discovered it to be the cognizance of the ducal house of Champdoce. The light that guided me was faint and uncertain, and many another man would have given up the quest. But the thought was with me in my waking hours, and was the companion of my pillow during the dark hours of the night.
A young man with a delicate black mustache, and extremely well dressed, even turned to his neighbor, and asked, "Who is our friend, the preacher?" "What! don't you know him?" replied the other. "That is the Duke of Champdoce, you know, who has married a princess of Mussidan. Quite an original." M. de Brevan, however, had remained perfectly impassive, and now said,
M. de Puymandour paid no attention to her entreaty, but added, as an afterthought: "Perhaps you would wish to know the name of the gentleman I have selected as a husband for you. He is the Marquis Norbert, the son and heir of the Duke de Champdoce." Marie turned deadly pale. "But I do not know him; I have never seen him," faltered she. "I know him, and that is quite sufficient.
She was rather inclined to believe, and she did believe, that this Petroleum Society, conceived by Sir Thorn, was unpleasant to the countess; and that thus discord reigned in the enemy's camp. The result of her meditations was a long letter to a gentleman for whom her mother had always entertained a great esteem, the Duke of Champdoce.
"I shall very likely not see you to-night, for I have an appointment at the Grand Turk with that precious young rascal, Toto Chupin. I must find Caroline, for I am sure that with her lies the Champdoce secret. She is very cunning, but has a weakness for drink, and, with Satan's help, I hope to find out the special liquor which will make her open her lips freely."
But it was in vain that she wandered about, continually changing the hour of her visits. The "Savage of Champdoce" was not to be seen, nor was he even a regular attendant at Mass.
Ah, I see it all, and so shall he one of these days." At these words Daumon felt his knees give way under him; but all further questioning was stopped by the appearance of M. de Puymandour on his way to Champdoce. He therefore dismissed Francoise, and awaited the return of this gentleman, from whom he hoped to gain the fullest information regarding the Duke's malady.
His past life might, in some degree, offer an explanation of this conduct. Born in 1780, the Duke de Champdoce had joined the band of emigrants which swelled the ranks of Conde's army. An implacable opposer of the Revolution, he resided, during the glorious days of the Empire, in London, where dire poverty compelled him to gain a livelihood as a fencing master at the Restoration.
But she could not hide the share that she had taken, both in the death of the late Duke of Champdoce and the disappearance of George de Croisenois. The Count's brain reeled.
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