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"Yes, certain," replied Colorat; "it is even said that it was he who killed the traveller by the mail-coach in 1812; but the courier and the postilion, the only witnesses who could have identified him, were dead before he was tried." "Tried for the robbery?" asked Madame Graslin. "Yes, they took everything; amongst it twenty-five thousand francs belonging to the government."
This canal, which he intended to carry into the Vienne, would form a waterway by which to send down timber from the twenty thousand acres of forest land belonging to Madame Graslin in Montegnac, now admirably managed by Colorat, but which, for want of transportation, returned no profit.
"Poor man! perhaps he does not know how kind madame is." "But what has he done?" "Ah! madame, Farrabesche is a murderer," replied Champion, simply. "Then they pardoned him!" said Veronique, in a trembling voice. "No, madame," replied Colorat, "Farrabesche was tried and condemned to ten years at the galleys; he served half his time, and then he was released on parole and came here in 1827.
At any rate, she was powerfully affected; Colorat and Champion, following her at a little distance, thought her transfigured. At a certain sport Veronique was struck with the stern harsh aspect of the steep and rocky beds of the dried-up torrents. She found herself longing to hear the sound of water splashing through those scorched ravines. "The need to love!" she murmured.
It would be dangerous, he said, to return by the hills, or by the tangled paths they had followed in the morning, where, even with his knowledge of the country, they were likely to be lost in the dusk. Once on the plain Veronique rode slowly. "Who is this Farrabesche whom you employ?" she asked her forester. "Has madame met him?" cried Colorat. "Yes, but he ran away from me."
Veronique hastened to mount her horse and rejoin the servants, who were beginning to be uneasy about her; for the strange unhealthiness of the Roche-Vive was well known throughout the neighborhood. Colorat begged his mistress to go down into the little valley which led to the plain.
"And he lives all alone?" exclaimed Madame Graslin, adding the two last words hastily. "Excuse me, not quite alone, madame; he takes care of a boy about fifteen years old," said Maurice Champion. "Yes, that's so," said Colorat; "La Curieux gave birth to the child some little time before Farrabesche was condemned." "Is it his child?" asked Madame Graslin. "People think so."
Well, that's the question; but you might as well hunt for a marble among the stones on that plain as look for her there." They were now riding up the ascent to the chateau as Colorat pointed to the plain below. Madame Sauviat, evidently uneasy, Aline and the other servants were waiting at the gate, not knowing what to think of this long absence.
Jerome Colorat found nothing but waste land utterly barren, woods unavailable for want of transportation, a ruined chateau, and enormous outlays required to restore the house and gardens. Alarmed, above all, by the beds of torrents strewn with granite rocks which seamed the forest, this honest but unintelligent agent was the real cause of the sale of the property.
As soon as he came back from the galleys he got Monsieur Bonnet to ask for the little boy whom the grandfather and grandmother were taking care of; and Monsieur Bonnet obtained the child." "Does no one know what became of the mother?" "No one," said Colorat. "The girl felt that she was ruined; she was afraid to stay in her own village. She went to Paris. What is she doing there?
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