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What a monster of dissimulation and hypocrisy! And to think that he would be my heir, if I should die here of rage! For it is written in my will in so many words, 'I bequeath to my son, Noel Gerdy! If he is guilty, there isn't a punishment sufficiently severe for him. But is this woman never going home?" The woman was in no hurry.
"She was," continued Noel, "the slave of Madame Gerdy, devoted to her in every way! She would have sacrificed herself for her at a sign from her hand." "Then you, my dear friend, you knew this poor woman!" "I had not seen her for a very long time," replied Noel, whose voice seemed broken by emotion, "but I knew her well. I ought even to say I loved her tenderly. She was my nurse."
Noel interrupted his friend by a gesture, and drew him into the embrasure of the window. "Yes, my friend," said he in a low tone, "Madame Gerdy has experienced great mental suffering, she has been frightfully tortured by remorse. Listen, Herve. I will confide our secret to your honour and your friendship.
"And the wretched man," cried Noel, "dares to invoke the aid of Providence! He would make heaven his accomplice!" "But," asked the old fellow, "how did your mother, pardon me, I would say, how did Madame Gerdy receive this proposition?"
Judging from the number of folds in the paper one could guess that it had been read and re-read many times. The writing even was here and there partly obliterated. "In this," said he in a bitter tone, "Madame Gerdy is no longer the adored Valerie: 'A friend, cruel as all true friends, has opened my eyes. I doubted. You have been watched, and today, unhappily, I can doubt no more.
He saw Madame Gerdy, and the final arrangements of the conspiracy were decided on. Here is a note which removes all uncertainty on that point. On the day it was written, the count was on service at the Tuileries, and unable to leave his post. He has written it even in the king's study, on the king's paper; see the royal arms!
M. Daburon then quitted his chair, and, taking the advocate by the hand, led him to the count. "M. de Commarin," said he, "I have the honour of presenting to you M. Noel Gerdy." M. de Commarin was probably expecting some scene of this kind: for not a muscle of his face moved: he remained perfectly calm.
Now, therefore, I beseech you, tell me whether this substitution really did take place. "Certainly it did," replied the count violently, "yes, certainly. You know that it did, for you have read what I wrote to Madame Gerdy, your mother." Albert had foreseen, had expected this reply; but it crushed him nevertheless.
"I am not surprised at that," replied the advocate: "we were greatly interested in that poor woman, who was my nurse; and I know that Madame Gerdy wrote to her frequently." "Very well; then you can give me some information about her." "I fear, sir, that it will be very incomplete. I know very little about this poor old Madame Lerouge.
He pretends that he has ruined himself on my account; it's very possible. But what's that to me! I am not a grabbing woman; and I would much have preferred less money and more regard. My extravagance has been inspired by anger and want of occupation. M. Gerdy treats me like a mercenary woman; and so I act like one. We are quits." "You know very well that he worships you." "He?
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