“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.”
Hearing her husband’s approaching step, she darted back to her corner by the fire.
Fougeroux filled the glasses, and drank to the health of Clameran.
As they returned to the boat, Louis tried to think what could be the object of this singular rendezvous.
“Joseph, what the deuce can that old witch want with me?” he said musingly.
“Who can tell? 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.
“Ah, here you are, at last, M. the marquis,” she said, in a tone of relief. “I was afraid you would disappoint me.”