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Updated: May 1, 2025
The door was opened for them by a young woman of some twenty years of age Marguerite Monvoisin, the daughter of the witch who led them upstairs to a room that was handsomely furnished and hung with fantastic tapestry of red designs upon a black ground designs that took monstrous shapes in the flickering light of a cluster of candles.
Leaving Leroy the Marchioness's male attendant below in this fellow's company, La Voisin took up a candle and lighted Madame de Montespan up the broad stone staircase, draughty and cold, to the ante-room of the chapel on the floor above. Mademoiselle Desceillets followed closely and fearfully, and Marguerite Monvoisin came last.
It was La Voisin who stood on the threshold to receive her client. In the stone-flagged hall behind her the light of a lantern revealed her daughter, Marguerite Monvoisin, and a short, crafty-faced, misshapen fellow in black homespun and a red wig a magician named Lesage, one of La Voisin's coadjutors, a rogue of some talent who exploited the witches of Paris to his own profit.
Marguerite Monvoisin was sufficiently acquainted with the ghastly rites to guess what was impending. She was young, and herself a mother. She had her share of the maternal instinct alive in every female animal with the occasional exception of the human pervert and the hoarse, plaintive cries of that young child chilled her to the soul with horror.
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