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"I never liked that painter's face," said the lieutenant to Monsieur Mouilleron. "My good woman," said the judge to Gritte, when she appeared, "they say you saw Monsieur Joseph Bridau leave the house this morning?" "Yes, monsieur," she answered, trembling like a leaf. "At what hour?" "Just as I was getting up: he walked about his room all night, and was dressed when I came downstairs."
"Of a bad action which he could never have committed," answered Madame Hochon. Hearing the words, and seeing the lieutenant of gendarmes, who at this moment entered the room accompanied by the two gentlemen, Agathe fainted away. "There now!" said Monsieur Hochon to his wife and Gritte, "carry off Madame Bridau; women are only in the way at these times.
"Where is your guest?" said Monsieur Mouilleron to Monsieur Hochon. "He has gone to walk in the country, I believe." "Call Gritte," said the judge gravely. "I was in hopes he had not left the house. You are aware that the crime was committed not far from here, at daybreak." While Monsieur Hochon went to find Gritte, the three functionaries looked at each other significantly.
The old man dove into the pocket of his surtout, pulled out an end of string which had evidently already served to tie up a parcel, and gave it to her; but before she could leave the room he called out, "Gritte, mind you give it back to me!" From year to year old Hochon grew more petty in his meanness, and more penurious; and at this time he was eighty-five years old.
We have suffered enough here below," she added in a low voice, "for God to take pity upon us." Shortly after, while Monsieur Mouilleron had gone across the way to talk with Max, Gritte greatly astonished Monsieur and Madame Hochon, Agathe, Joseph, and Adolphine by announcing the visit of Monsieur Rouget.
But Agathe woke up and came down half-dressed; for the evasive answers of Gritte, whom she questioned, had disturbed both her head and heart. She found Madame Hochon, looking very pale, with her eyes full of tears, at one of the windows of the salon beside her husband. "Courage, my child. God sends us our afflictions," said the old lady. "Joseph is accused " "Of what?"
At the old miser's, as everywhere else in the provinces, the household was early astir. The few words uttered by Max had roused the suspicions of Monsieur Goddet, and he called to the woman, "Gritte, is Monsieur Joseph Bridau in bed?" "Bless me!" she said, "he went out at half-past four. I don't know what ailed him; he walked up and down his room all night."
Gritte, who in spite of her sixty years, was the only servant of the house, brought in for dessert the famous ripe cheese of Touraine and Berry, made of goat's milk, whose mouldy discolorations so distinctly reproduce the pattern of the vine-leaves on which it is served, that Touraine ought to have invented the art of engraving.
"There's the matter started. Now, when you see him," said Monsieur Hochon to Agathe, "you must speak plainly to him about his nephews." The letter was carried over by Gritte, who returned ten minutes later to render an account to her masters of all that she had seen and heard, according to a settled provincial custom. "Since yesterday Madame has had the whole house cleaned up, which she left "
"He was smelling after your money-bags," said Flore, in a peremptory tone. "My advice is that you don't let him into the house again." "I'd prefer not to," replied Rouget. "Monsieur," said Gritte, entering the room where the Hochon family were all assembled after breakfast, "here is the Monsieur Bridau you were talking about."
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