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Updated: June 17, 2025
In this extremity she was obliged to confide in Mihonne, and sent her with a letter to Louis. But the faithful servant had a useless walk. The chateau of Clameran was deserted; all the servants had been dismissed, and M. Louis, whom they now called the marquis, had gone abroad. At last they started.
She used to be in the service of a lady who was very intimate with M. Gaston; so my father used to say. If I were in your place I would go and see what she wanted, monsieur. You can dine with me, and, after dinner, Pilorel will row you over." Curiosity decided Louis to go, about seven o'clock, to the walnut wood, where he found Mihonne impatiently awaiting him.
"He is a cunning fox," said the farmer; "I have had a bad opinion of him ever since his marriage, which was a shameful affair altogether. Mihonne was over fifty years of age, and he was only twenty-four, when he married her; so you may know it was money, and not a wife, that he wanted. She, poor fool, believed that the young scamp really loved her, and gave herself and her money up to him.
"If mother asks for me," said Valentine to the girl, "tell her I have gone to early mass." She often went to church at this hour, so there was nothing to be feared thus far; Mihonne looked at her sadly, but said nothing. Valentine knew that she would have difficulty in returning to breakfast.
"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.
Mme. de la Verberie, feeling that she could trust Mihonne, decided to take her along; but first made her sacredly promise eternal secrecy. It was in a little village near London that the countess, under the assumed name of Mrs. Wilson, took up her abode with her daughter and maid-servant.
The occasion was favorable to Mihonne; she walked quickly over to where the marquis stood, and said in a nervous whisper: "M. the marquis, I must speak with you apart." "What can you want to tell me, my good woman?" "It is a secret of life and death. This evening, at dusk, meet me in the walnut wood, and I will tell you everything."
With a frightened air she hobbled out to obey his orders, and in a few minutes returned with a bottle of wine and three glasses. Then she resumed her seat by the fire, and kept her eyes fastened upon the marquis. Could this really be the merry, pretty Mihonne, who had been the confidant of the little fairy of Verberie?
Valentine was its mother. I took the poor babe, and carried it to a woman whom I paid to take charge of it." Then Mihonne described the anger of the countess, the journey to London, and the abandonment of little Raoul.
On the road, she met many people coming from the town, where they had heard of the events of the previous night; and the poor girl was obliged to keep her eyes fastened to the ground in order to escape the insulting looks and mocking salutations with which the gossips passed her. When Valentine reached La Verberie, she found Mihonne waiting for her.
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