Baron Trigault's Vengeance

by Emile Gaboriau

  VIII.

  Unusual strength of character, unbounded confidence in one's own energy,with thorough contempt of danger, and an invincible determination totriumph or perish, are all required of the person who, like MademoiselleMarguerite, intrusts herself to the care of strangers--worse yet, to thecare of actual enemies. It is no small matter to place yourself in thepower of smooth-tongued hypocrites and impostors, who are anxious foryour ruin, and whom you know to be capable of anything. And the task isa mighty one--to brave unknown dangers, perilous seductions, perfidiouscounsels, and perhaps even violence, at the same time retaining a calmeye and smiling lips. Yet such was the heroism that Marguerite, althoughscarcely twenty, displayed when she left the Hotel de Chalusse to acceptthe hospitality of the Fondege family. And, to crown all, she tookMadame Leon with her--Madame Leon, whom she knew to be the Marquis deValorsay's spy.

  But, brave as she was, when the moment of departure came her heartalmost failed her. There was despair in the parting glance she cast uponthe princely mansion and the familiar faces of the servants. And therewas no one to encourage or sustain her. Ah, yes! standing at a windowon the second floor, with his forehead pressed close against the pane ofglass, she saw the only friend she had in the world--the old magistratewho had defended, encouraged, and sustained her--the man who hadpromised her his assistance and advice, and prophesied ultimate success.

  "Shall I be a coward?" she thought; "shall I be unworthy of Pascal?" Andshe resolutely entered the carriage, mentally exclaiming: "The die iscast!"

  The General insisted that she should take a place beside Madame deFondege on the back seat; while he found a place next to Madame Leon onthe seat facing them. The drive was a silent and tedious one. The nightwas coming on; it was a time when all Paris was on the move, andthe carriage was delayed at each street corner by a crowd of passingvehicles. The conversation was solely kept alive by the exertions ofMadame de Fondege, whose shrill voice rose above the rumble of thewheels, as she chronicled the virtues of the late Count de Chalusse, andcongratulated Mademoiselle Marguerite on the wisdom of her decision. Herremarks were of a commonplace description, and yet each word she utteredevinced intense satisfaction, almost delight, as if she had won someunexpected victory. Occasionally, the General leaned from the carriagewindow to see if the vehicle laden with Mademoiselle Marguerite's trunkswas following them, but he said nothing.

  At last they reached his residence in the Rue Pigalle. He alightedfirst, offered his hand successively to his wife, MademoiselleMarguerite, and Madame Leon, and motioned the coachman to drive away.

  But the man did not stir. "Pardon--excuse me, monsieur," he said, "butmy employers bade--requested me----"

  "What?"

  "To ask you--you know, for the fare--thirty-five francs--not countingthe little gratuity."

  "Very well!--I will pay you to-morrow."

  "Excuse me, monsieur; but if it is all the same to you, would you do sothis evening? My employer said that the bill had been standing a longtime already."

  "What, scoundrel!"

  But Madame de Fondege, who was on the point of entering the house,suddenly stepped back, and drawing out her pocketbook, exclaimed:"That's enough! Here are thirty-five francs."

  The man went to his carriage lamp to count the money, and seeing that hehad the exact amount--"And my gratuity?" he asked.

  "I give none to insolent people," replied the General.

  "You should take a cab if you haven't money enough to pay for coaches,"replied the driver with an oath. "I'll be even with you yet."

  Marguerite heard no more, for Madame de Fondege caught her by the armand hurried her up the staircase, saying: "Quick! we must make haste.Your baggage is here already, and we must see if the rooms I intendedfor you--for you and your companion--suit you."

  When Marguerite reached the second floor, Madame de Fondege huntedin her pocket for her latch-key. Not finding it, she rang. A tallman-servant of impudent appearance and arrayed in a glaring liveryopened the door, carrying an old battered iron candlestick, in whicha tiny scrap of candle was glaring and flickering. "What!" exclaimedMadame de Fondege, "the reception-room not lighted yet? This isscandalous! What have you been doing in my absence? Come, make haste.Light the lamp. Tell the cook that I have some guests to dine with me.Call my maid. See that M. Gustave's room is in order. Go down and see ifthe General doesn't need your assistance about the baggage."

  Finding it difficult to choose between so many contradictory orders, theservant did not choose at all. He placed his rusty candlestick on oneof the side-tables in the reception-room, and gravely, without sayinga single word, went out into the passage leading to the kitchen."Evariste!" cried Madame de Fondege, crimson with anger, "Evariste, youinsolent fellow!"

  As he deigned no reply, she rushed out in pursuit of him. And soon thesound of a violent altercation arose; the servant lavishing insults uponhis mistress, and she unable to find any response, save, "I dismiss you;you are an insolent scamp--I dismiss you."

  Madame Leon, who was standing near Mademoiselle Marguerite in thereception-room, seemed greatly amused. "This is a strange household,"said she. "A fine beginning, upon my word."

  But the worthy housekeeper was the last person on earth to whomMademoiselle Marguerite wished to reveal her thoughts. "Hush, Leon," shereplied. "We are the cause of all this disturbance, and I am very sorryfor it."

  The retort that rose to the housekeeper's lips was checked by the returnof Madame de Fondege, followed by a servant-girl with a turn-up nose, apert manner, and who carried a lighted candle in her hand.

  "How can I apologize, madame," began Mademoiselle Marguerite, "for allthe trouble I am giving you?"

  "Ah! my dear child, I've never been so happy. Come, come, and see yourroom." And while they crossed several scantily-furnished apartments,Madame de Fondege continued: "It is I who ought to apologize to you. Ifear you will pine for the splendors of the Hotel de Chalusse. Weare not millionaires like your poor father. We have only a modestcompetence, no more. But here we are!"

  The maid had opened a door, and Mademoiselle Marguerite entered agood-sized room lighted by two windows, hung with soiled wall paper, andadorned with chintz curtains, from which the sun had extracted most ofthe coloring. Everything was in disorder here, and in fact, the wholeroom was extremely dirty. The bed was not made, the washstand was dirty,some woollen stockings were hanging over the side of the rumpled bed,and on the mantel-shelf stood an ancient clock, an empty beer bottle,and some glasses. On the floor, on the furniture, in the corners,everywhere in fact, stumps of cigars were scattered in profusion, as ifthey had positively rained down.

  "What!" gasped Madame de Fondege, "you haven't put this room in order,Justine?"

  "Indeed, madame, I haven't had time."

  "But it's more than a month since M. Gustave slept here?"

  "I know it; but madame must remember that I have been very much hurriedthis last month, having to do all the washing and ironing since thelaundress----"

  "That's sufficient," interrupted Madame de Fondege. And turning toMarguerite, she said: "You will, I am sure, excuse this disorder, mydear child. By this time to-morrow the room shall be transformed intoone of those dainty nests of muslin and flowers which young girlsdelight in."

  Connected with this apartment, which was known to the household as thelieutenant's room, there was a much smaller chamber lighted only by asingle window, and originally intended for a dressing-room. It had twodoors, one of them communicating with Marguerite's room, and theother with the passage; and it was now offered to Madame Leon, whoon comparing these quarters with the spacious suite of rooms she hadoccupied at the Hotel de Chalusse, had considerable difficulty inrepressing a grimace. Still she did not hesitate nor even murmur. M. deValorsay's orders bound her to Marguerite, and she deemed it fortunatethat she was allowed to follow her. And whether the marquis succeeded ornot, he had promised her a sufficiently liberal reward to compensatefor all personal discomfort. So, in the sweetest of voices, and witha
feigned humility of manner, she declared this little room to be evenmuch too good for a poor widow whose misfortunes had compelled her toabdicate her position in society.

  The attentions which M. and Madame de Fondege showed her contributed nota little to her resignation. Without knowing exactly what the Generaland his wife expected from Mademoiselle Marguerite, she was shrewdenough to divine that they hoped to gain some important advantage.Now her "dear child" had declared her to be a trusted friend, who wasindispensable to her existence and comfort. "So these people will payassiduous court to me," she thought. And being quite ready to playa double part as the spy of the Marquis de Valorsay, and the Fondegefamily, and quite willing to espouse the latter's cause should thatprove to be the more remunerative course, she saw a long series ofpolite attentions and gifts before her.

  That very evening her prophecies were realized; and she received a proofof consideration which positively delighted her. It was decided thatshe should take her meals at the family table, a thing which had neverhappened at the Hotel de Chalusse. Mademoiselle Marguerite raised a fewobjections, which Madame Leon answered with a venomous look, but Madamede Fondege insisted upon the arrangement, not understanding, she said,graciously, why they need deprive themselves of the society of such anagreeable and distinguished person. Madame Leon in no wise doubted butthis favor was due to her merit alone, but Mademoiselle Marguerite, whowas more discerning, saw that their hostess was really furious at theidea, but was compelled to submit to it by the imperious necessity ofpreventing Madame Leon from coming in contact with the servants, whomight make some decidedly compromising disclosures. For there wereevidently many little mysteries and make-shifts to be concealed in thishousehold. For instance, while the servants were carrying the luggageupstairs, Marguerite discovered Madame de Fondege and her maid inclose consultation, whispering with that volubility which betrays anunexpected and pressing perplexity. What were they talking about? Shelistened without any compunctions of conscience, and the words "a pairof sheets," repeated again and again, furnished her with abundant foodfor reflection. "Is it possible," she thought, "that they have no sheetsto give us?"

  It did not take her long to discover the maid's opinion of theestablishment in which she served; for while she brandished her broomand duster, this girl, exasperated undoubtedly by the increase of workshe saw in store for her, growled and cursed the old barrack where onewas worked to death, where one never had enough to eat, and where thewages were always in arrears. Mademoiselle Marguerite was doing herbest to aid the maid, who was greatly surprised to find this handsome,queenly young lady so obliging, when Evariste, the same who had receivedwarning an hour before, made his appearance, and announced in aninsolent tone that "Madame la Comtesse was served."

  For Madame de Fondege exacted this title. She had improvised it, asher husband had improvised his title of General, and without much moredifficulty. By a search in the family archives she had discovered--soshe declared to her intimate friends--that she was the descendant of anoble family, and that one of her ancestors had held a most importantposition at the court of Francis I. or of Louis XII. Indeed, shesometimes confounded them. However, people who had not known her father,the wood merchant, saw nothing impossible in the statements.

  Evariste was dressed as a butler should be dressed when he announcesdinner to a person of rank. In the daytime when he discharged the dutiesof footman, he was gorgeous in gold lace; but in the evening, he arrayedhimself in severe black, such as is appropriate to the butler of anaristocratic household. Immediately after his announcement everybodyrepaired to the sumptuous dining-room which, with its huge side-boards,loaded with silver and rare china, looked not unlike a museum. Such wasthe display, indeed, that when Mademoiselle Marguerite took a seat atthe table, between the General and his wife, and opposite Madame Leon,she asked herself if she had not been the victim of that dangerousoptical delusion known as prejudice. She noticed that the supply ofknives and forks was rather scanty; but many economical housewives keepmost of their silver under lock and key; besides the china was veryhandsome and marked with the General's monogram, surmounted by hiswife's coronet.

  However, the dinner was badly cooked and poorly served. One might havesupposed it to be a scullery maid's first attempt. Still the Generaldevoured it with delight. He partook ravenously of every dish, a flushrose to his cheeks, and an expression of profound satisfaction wasvisible upon his countenance. "From this," thought MademoiselleMarguerite, "I must infer that he usually goes hungry, and that thisseems a positive feast to him." In fact, he seemed bubbling over withcontentment. He twirled his mustaches a la Victor Emmanuel, and rolledhis "r," as he said, "Sacr-r-r-r-r-e bleu!" even more ferociously thanusual. It was only by a powerful effort that he restrained himself fromindulging in various witticisms which would have been most unseemly inthe presence of a poor girl who had just lost her father and all herhopes of fortune. But he did forget himself so much as to say that thedrive to the cemetery had whetted his appetite, and to address his wifeas Madame Range-a-bord, a title which had been bestowed upon her by asailor brother.

  Crimson with anger to the very roots of her coarse, sandy hair--amazedto see her husband deport himself in this style, and almost suffocatedby the necessity of restraining her wrath, Madame de Fondege was heroicenough to smile, though her eyes flashed ominously. But the General wasnot at all dismayed. On the contrary, he cared so little for his wife'sdispleasure that, when the dessert was served, he turned to the servant,and, with a wink that Mademoiselle Marguerite noticed, "Evariste," heordered, "go to the wine-cellar, and bring me a bottle of old Bordeaux."

  The valet, who had just received a week's notice, was only too glad ofan opportunity for revenge. So with a malicious smile, and in a drawlingtone, he replied: "Then monsieur must give me the money. Monsieur knowsvery well that neither the grocer nor the wine-merchant will trust himany longer."

  M. de Fondege rose from the table, looking very pale; but before he hadtime to utter a word, his wife came to the rescue. "You know, my dear,that I don't trust the key of my cellar to this lad. Evariste, callJustine."

  The pert-looking chambermaid appeared, and her mistress told her whereshe would find the key of the famous cellar. About a quarter of an hourafterward, one of those bottles which grocers and wine-merchants preparefor the benefit of credulous customers was brought in--a bottle dulycovered with dust and mould to give it a venerable appearance, andfestooned with cobwebs, such as the urchins of Paris collect and sell atfrom fifteen sous to two francs a pound, according to quality. But theBordeaux did not restore the General's equanimity. He was silent andsubdued; and his relief was evident when, after the coffee had beenserved, his wife exclaimed: "We won't keep you from your club, my dear.I want a chat with our dear child."

  Since she dismissed the General so unceremoniously, Madame de Fondegeevidently wished for a tete-a-tete with Mademoiselle Marguerite. Atleast Madame Leon thought so, or feigned to think so, and addressing theyoung girl, she said: "I shall be obliged to leave you for a couple ofhours, my dear young lady. My relatives would never forgive me if I didnot inform them of my change of residence."

  This was the first time since she had been engaged by the Count deChalusse, that the estimable "companion" had ever made any directallusion to her relatives, and what is more, to relatives residing inParis. She had previously only spoken of them in general terms, givingpeople to understand that her relatives had not been unfortunate likeherself--that they still retained their exalted rank, though she hadfallen, and that she found it difficult to decline the favors theylonged to heap upon her.

  However, Mademoiselle Marguerite evinced no surprise. "Go at once andinform your relatives, my dear Leon," she said, without a shade ofsarcasm in her manner. "I hope they won't be offended by your devotionto me." But in her secret heart, she thought: "This hypocrite is goingto report to the Marquis de Valorsay, and these relatives of hers willfurnish her with excuses for future visits to him."

  The General went off, the servants b
egan to clear the table, andMademoiselle Marguerite followed her hostess to the drawing-room. It wasa lofty and spacious apartment, lighted by three windows, and even moresumptuous in its appointments than the dining-room. Furniture, carpets,and hangings, were all in rather poor taste, perhaps, but costly, verycostly. As the evening was a cold one, Madame de Fondege ordered thefire to be lighted. She seated herself on a sofa near the mantelpiece,and when Mademoiselle Marguerite had taken a chair opposite her, shebegan, "Now, my dear child, let us have a quiet talk."

  Mademoiselle Marguerite expected some important communication, so thatshe was not a little surprised when Madame de Fondege resumed: "Have youthought about your mourning?"

  "About my mourning, madame?"

  "Yes. I mean, have you decided what dresses you will purchase? It isan important matter, my dear--more important than you suppose. They aremaking costumes entirely of crepe now, puffed and plaited, and extremelystylish. I saw one that would suit you well. You may think that acostume for deep mourning made with puffs would be a trifle LOUD, butthat depends upon tastes. The Duchess de Veljo wore one only eleven daysafter her husband's death; and she allowed some of her hair, which issuperb, to fall over her shoulders, a la pleureuse, and the effect wasextremely touching." Was Madame de Fondege speaking sincerely? Therecould be no doubt of it. Her features, which had been distorted withanger when the General took it into his head to order the bottle ofBordeaux, had regained their usual placidity of expression, and had evenbrightened a little. "I am entirely at your service, my dear, if youwish any shopping done," she continued. "And if you are not quitepleased with your dressmaker, I will take you to mine, who works like anangel. But how absurd I am. You will of course employ Van Klopen. I goto him occasionally myself, but only on great occasions. Between you andme, I think him a trifle too high in his charges."

  Mademoiselle Marguerite could scarcely repress a smile. "I must confess,madame, that from my infancy I have been in the habit of making almostall my dresses myself."

  The General's wife raised her eyes to Heaven in real or feignedastonishment. "Yourself!" she repeated four or five times, as if to makesure that she had heard aright. "Yourself! That is incomprehensible!You, the daughter of a man who possessed an income of five or sixhundred thousand francs a year! Still I know that poor M. de Chalusse,though unquestionably a very worthy and excellent man, was peculiar insome of his ideas."

  "Excuse me, madame. What I did, I did for my own pleasure."

  But this assertion exceeded Madame de Fondege's powers of comprehension."Impossible!" she murmured, "impossible! But, my poor child, what didyou do for fashions--for patterns?"

  The immense importance she attached to the matter was so manifest thatMarguerite could not refrain from smiling. "I was probably not a veryclose follower of the fashions," she replied. "The dress that I amwearing now----."

  "Is very pretty, my child, and it becomes you extremely; that's thetruth. Only, to be frank, I must confess that this style is no longerworn--no--not at all. You must have your new dresses made in quite adifferent way."

  "But I already have more dresses than I need, madame."

  "What! black dresses?"

  "I seldom wear anything but black."

  Evidently her hostess had never heard anything like this before. "Oh!all right," said she, "these dresses will doubtless do very well foryour first months of mourning--but afterward? Do you suppose, my poordear, that I'm going to allow you to shut yourself up as you did at theHotel de Chalusse? Good heavens! how dull it must have been for you,alone in that big house, without society or friends."

  A tear fell from Marguerite's long lashes. "I was very happy there,madame," she murmured.

  "You think so; but you will change your mind. When one has never tastedreal pleasure, one cannot realize how gloomy one's life really is. Nodoubt, you were very unhappy alone with M. de Chalusse."

  "Oh! madame----"

  "Tut! tut! my dear, I know what I am talking about. Wait until you havebeen introduced into society before you boast of the charms of solitude.Poor dear! I doubt if you have ever attended a ball in your whole life.No! I was sure of it, and you are twenty! Fortunately, I am here. I willtake your mother's place, and we will make up for lost time! Beautifulas you are, my child--for you are divinely beautiful--you will reign asa queen wherever you appear. Doesn't that thought make that cold littleheart of yours throb more quickly? Ah! fetes and music, wonderfultoilettes and the flashing of diamonds, the admiration of gentlemen,the envy of rivals, the consciousness of one's own beauty, are thesedelights not enough to fill any woman's life? It is intoxication,perhaps, but an intoxication which is happiness."

  Was she sincere, or did she hope to dazzle this lonely girl, and thenrule her through the tastes she might succeed in giving her? As is notunfrequently the case with callous natures, Madame de Fondege was acompound of frankness and cunning. What she was saying now she reallymeant; and as it was to her interest to say it, she urged her opinionsboldly and even eloquently. Twenty-four hours earlier, proud andtruthful Marguerite would have silenced her at once. She would have toldher that such pleasures could never have any charm for her, and that shefelt only scorn and disgust for such worthless aims and sordid desires.But having resolved to appear a dupe, she concealed her real feelingsunder an air of surprise, and was astonished and even ashamed to findthat she could dissemble so well.

  "Besides," continued Madame de Fondege, "a marriageable young girlshould never shut herself up like a nun. She will never find a husbandif she remains at home--and she must marry. Indeed, marriage is asensible woman's only object in life, since it is her emancipation."

  Was Madame de Fondege going to plead her son's cause? MademoiselleMarguerite almost believed it--but the lady was too shrewd for that. Shetook good care not to mention as much as Lieutenant Gustave's name.

  "The season will certainly be unusually brilliant," she said, "andit will begin very early. On the fifth of November, the Countess deCommarin will give a superb fete; all Paris will be there. On theseventh, there will be a ball at the house of the Viscountess de Boisd'Ardon. On the eleventh, there will be a concert, followed by a ball,at the superb mansion of the Baroness Trigault--you know--the wife ofthat strange man who spends all his time in playing cards."

  "This is the first time I ever heard the name mentioned."

  "Really! and you have been living in Paris for years. It seemsincomprehensible. You must know then, my dear little ignoramus, that theBaroness Trigault is one of the most distinguished ladies in Paris, andcertainly the best dressed. I am sure her bill at Van Klopen's is notless than a hundred thousand francs a year--and that is saying enough,is it not?" And with genuine pride, she added: "The baroness is myfriend. I will introduce you to her."

  Having once started on this theme, Madame de Fondege was not easilysilenced. It was evidently her ambition to be considered a woman of theworld, and to be acquainted with all the leaders of fashionable society;and, in fact, if one listened to her conversation for an hour one couldlearn all the gossip of the day. Though she was unable to interestherself in this tittle-tattle, Marguerite was pretending to listen to itwith profound attention when the drawing-room door suddenly opened andEvariste appeared with an impudent smile on his face. "Madame Landoire,the milliner, is here, and desires to speak with Madame la Comtesse," hesaid.

  On hearing this name, Madame de Fondege started as if she had beenstung by a viper. "Let her wait," she said quickly. "I will see her in amoment."

  The order was useless, for the visitor was already on the threshold.She was a tall, dark-haired, ill-mannered woman. "Ah! I've found youat last," she said, rudely, "and I'm not sorry. This is the fourth timeI've come here with my bill."

  Madame de Fondege pointed to Mademoiselle Marguerite, and exclaimed:"Wait, at least, until I am alone before you speak to me on business."

  Madame Landoire shrugged her shoulders. "As if you were ever alone," shegrowled. "I wish to put an end to this."

  "Step into my room then
, and we will put an end to it, and at once."

  This opportunity to escape from Madame de Fondege must not be allowedto pass; so Marguerite asked permission to withdraw, declaring, what wasreally the truth, that she felt completely tired out. After receivinga maternal kiss from her hostess, accompanied by a "sleep well, my dearchild," she retired to her own room. Thanks to Madame Leon's absence,she found herself alone, and, drawing a blotting-pad from one of hertrunks, she hastily wrote a note to M. Isidore Fortunat, telling himthat she would call upon him on the following Tuesday. "I must be veryawkward," she thought, "if to-morrow, on going to mass, I can't findan opportunity to throw this note into a letter-box without beingobserved."

  It was fortunate that she had lost no time, for her writing-case wasscarcely in its place again before Madame Leon entered, evidently out ofsorts. "Well," asked Marguerite, "did you see your friends?"

  "Don't speak of it, my dear young lady; they were all of them away fromhome--they had gone to the play."

  "Ah?"

  "So I shall go again early to-morrow morning; you must realize howimportant it is."

  "Yes, I understand."

  But Madame Leon, who was usually so loquacious, did not seem to be in atalkative mood that evening, and, after kissing her dear young lady, shewent into her own room.

  "She did not succeed in finding the Marquis de Valorsay," thoughtMarguerite, "and being in doubt as to the part she is to play, she feelsfurious."

  The young girl tried to sum up the impressions of the evening, and todecide upon a plan of conduct, but she felt sad and very weary. She saidto herself that rest would be more beneficial than anything else, andthat her mind would be clearer on the morrow; so after a fervent prayerin which Pascal Ferailleur's name was mentioned several times, sheprepared for bed. But before she fell asleep she was able to collectanother bit of evidence. The sheets on her bed were new.

  If Marguerite had been born in the Hotel de Chalusse, if she had known afather's and a mother's tender care from her infancy, if she had alwaysbeen protected by a large fortune from the stern realities of life,there would have been no hope for her now that she was left poor andalone--for how can a girl avoid dangers she is ignorant of? But from herearliest childhood Marguerite had studied the difficult science of reallife under the best of teachers--misfortune. Cast upon her own resourcesat the age of thirteen, she had learned to look upon everybody andeverything with distrust; and by relying only on herself, she had becomestrangely cautious and clear-sighted. She knew how to watch and howto listen, how to deliberate and how to act. Two men, the Marquis deValorsay and M. de Fondege's son, coveted her hand; and one of the two,the marquis, so she believed, was capable of any crime. Still she feltno fears. She had been in danger once before when she was little morethan a child, when the brother of her employer insulted her with hisattentions, but she had escaped unharmed.

  Deceit was certainly most repugnant to her truth-loving nature; but itwas the only weapon of defence she possessed. And so on the followingday she carefully studied the abode of her entertainers. And certainlythe study was instructive. The General's household was truly Parisianin character; or, at least, it was what a Parisian household inevitablybecomes when its inmates fall a prey to the constantly increasingpassion for luxury and display, to the furore for aping the habits andexpenditure of millionaires, and to the noble and elevated desire ofhumiliating and outshining their neighbors. Ease, health, and comforthad been unscrupulously sacrificed to show. The dining-room wasmagnificent, the drawing-room superb; but these were the onlycomfortably furnished apartments in the establishment. The other roomswere bare and desolate. It is true that Madame de Fondege had a handsomewardrobe with glass doors in her own room, but this was an articlewhich the friend of the fashionable Baroness Trigault could not possiblydispense with. On the other hand, her bed had no curtains.

  The aspect of the place fittingly explained the habits and manners ofthe inmates. What sinister fears must have haunted them! for how couldthis extreme destitution in one part of the establishment be reconciledwith the luxury noticeable in the other, except by the fact that adesperate struggle to keep up appearances was constantly going on? Andthis constant anxiety made out-door noise, excitement, and gayety anecessity of their existence, and caused them to welcome anything thattook them from the home where they had barely sufficient to deceivesociety, and not enough to impose upon their creditors. "And they keepthree servants," thought Mademoiselle Marguerite--"three enemies whospend their time in ridiculing them, and torturing their vanity."

  Thus, on the very first day after her arrival, she realized the realsituation of the General and his wife. They were certainly on theverge of ruin when Mademoiselle Marguerite accepted their hospitality.Everything went to prove this: the coachman's insolent demand, theservants' impudence, the grocer's refusal to furnish a single bottle ofwine on credit, the milliner's persistence, and, lastly, the newsheets on the visitors' beds. "Yes," thought Mademoiselle Marguerite toherself, "the Fondeges were ruined when I came here. They would neverhave sunk so low if they had not been utterly destitute of resources.So, if they rise again, if money and credit come back again, then theold magistrate is right--they have obtained possession of the Chalussemillions!"