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Updated: June 25, 2025
While Mademoiselle d'Arlange sat down rather surprised, the count, much embarrassed at his position, went up to the priest, and asked in a low voice, "What is, I pray, M. l'Abbe; Madame Gerdy's condition?" The doctor, who had a sharp ear, heard the question, and approached quickly.
Aided by the concierge's directions, the count and the young girl went towards Madame Gerdy's apartments. The count mounted slowly, holding tightly to the balustrade, stopping at every landing to recover his breath. He was, then, about to see her again! His emotion pressed his heart like a vice. "M. Noel Gerdy?" he asked of the servant. The advocate had just that moment gone out.
We arranged that she should go alone, while I awaited for her at our inn. After she had gone, I grew uneasy. I went out soon after, and prowled about near Madame Gerdy's house, making inquiries of the servants and others; I soon discovered that she was the Count de Commarin's mistress. I felt so annoyed that, if I had been master, my wife should have come away without the little bastard.
He thought, that, instead of sending for Noel at Madame Gerdy's, he might go there himself. He would thus see Valerie! and he had longed to see her again so much! It was one of those actions which the heart urges, but which one does not dare risk, because a thousand subtle reasons and interests are against it.
During more than fifteen years that M. Tabaret came familiarly to the apartments, he had only met the cure of the parish, one of Noel's old professors, and Madame Gerdy's brother, a retired colonel. When these three visitors happened to call on the same evening, an event somewhat rare, they played at a round game called Boston; on other evenings piquet or all-fours was the rule.
"Never." "But you were at her house three days before the crime was committed." "That is true, but it was absolutely necessary. I had had much trouble to find her, no one knew what had become of her. Fortunately my notary was able to procure Madame Gerdy's address; he wrote to her, and that is how I learnt that Claudine was living at La Jonchere. I was then at Rome.
Then he took a small packet from one of his bureau drawers, slipped into his pocket the bank notes lent him by his old friend, and left his study, the door of which he double-locked. On reaching the landing, he paused. He listened intently as though the sound of Madame Gerdy's moans could reach him where he stood. Hearing nothing, he descended the stairs on tiptoe.
In four years, this model young man, this advocate of immaculate reputation, this austere moralist, had squandered not only his own fortune on her, but Madame Gerdy's also. He loved her madly, without reflection, without measure, with his eyes shut. At her side, he forgot all prudence, and thought out loud.
You will obtain judgment against me. Well, what then? Do you think of putting in an execution? This is not my home; the lease is in Madame Gerdy's name." "I know all that. Besides, the sale of everything here would not cover the amount." "Then you intend to put me in prison, at Clichy! Bad speculation, I warn you, my practice will be lost, and, you know, no practice, no money."
"Now," murmured the magistrate, "who can be the criminal?" An idea crossed his mind, at first it seemed to him absurd. He rejected it, then thought of it again. He examined it in all its various aspects. He had almost adopted it, when M. de Commarin entered. M. Daburon's messenger had arrived just as the count was alighting from his carriage, on returning with Claire from Madame Gerdy's.
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