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Hearing her husband's approaching step, she darted back to her corner by the fire. Fougeroux filled the glasses, and drank to the health of Clameran. As they returned to the boat, Louis tried to think what could be the object of this singular rendezvous. "Joseph, what the deuce can that old witch want with me?" he said musingly. "Who can tell?
After the price of the chateau was spent, to what could he look forward? Beggary. "But first of all," he thought, "I must ascertain the truth of the old woman's story; then I will decide upon a plan." This was why, the next day, after receiving the five thousand two hundred and eighty francs from Fougeroux, Louis de Clameran set out for London.
Perhaps M. the marquis remembers her a plump, bright-eyed brunette, named Mihonne." Louis did not remember Mihonne. "When can we see this Fougeroux?" he inquired. "To-day; I will engage a boat to take us over." "Well, let us go now. I have no time to lose." An entire generation has passed away since Louis had last crossed the Rhone in old Pilorel's boat.
Women will be trusting fools to the end of time! And Fougeroux is not the man to let money lie idle. He speculated with Mihonne's gold, and is now very rich. But she, poor thing, does not profit by his wealth; one can easily understand his not feeling any love for her, when she looks like his grandmother; but he deprives her of the necessaries of life, and beats her cruelly."
When they reached the opposite shore, Joseph asked young Pilorel to await their return. Joseph knocked at the gate of the well-cultivated farm, and inquired for the master; the farm-boy said that "M. Fougeroux" was out in the field, but he would go and tell him. He soon appeared. He was an ill-looking little man, with a red beard and small, restless eyes.
The faithful ferryman had been buried many years, and his duties were now performed by his son, who, possessing great respect for traditional opinions, was delighted at the honor of rowing the Marquis of Clameran in his boat, and soon had it ready for Louis and Joseph to take their seats. As soon as they were fairly started, Joseph began to warn the marquis against the wily Fougeroux.
"Would there be difficulty in selling this ruin?" continued Louis. "That depends upon the price you ask, M. the marquis; I know a man who would purchase the property if he could get it cheap." "Who is he?" "M. Fougeroux, who lives on the other side of the river. He came from Beaucaire, and twelve years ago married a servant-maid of the late Countess de la Verberie.
Although M. Fougeroux professed to despise the nobility and the clergy, the hope of driving a good bargain made him obsequious to Louis. He insisted upon ushering his visitor into "the parlor," with may bows and repetitions of "M. the marquis."
"I risked nine hundred francs," he continued, "but thread by thread I gathered the whole history of the Clamerans, Gaston's love-affair, his flight, and the stumbling of the horse ridden by Louis. I found also that about a year ago Louis returned, sold the chateau to a man named Fougeroux, whose wife, Mihonne, had a secret interview with Louis the day of the purchase. I went to see Mihonne.
"He would like to plant her six feet under ground," said the ferryman. "Well, it won't be long before he has the satisfaction of burying her," said Joseph; "the poor old woman has been in almost a dying condition ever since Fougeroux brought a worthless jade to take charge of the house, and makes his wife wait upon her like a servant."
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