"Well, Goualeuse?"
"No more doubt," cried Rudolph, after having read the letter; "another mysterious plot. The same evening on which the poor child disappeared, at the moment Madame George was about to inform me of the event, a man, whom she did not know, arrived express on horseback, came to her, as from me, to reassure her, saying I was informed of the sudden departure of Fleur-de-Marie, and that some day I would bring her back to the farm. Notwithstanding this notice, Madame George, uneasy at my silence respecting her protegee cannot, she writes me, resist her desire to have some news of her cherished daughter, as she calls the poor child."
"This is strange, my lord."
"For what end should she have been carried off?"
"My lord," said Murphy, suddenly, "the Countess M'Gregor is no stranger to this affair."
"Sarah? What makes you think so?"
"Compare this with her denunciations to Madame d'Harville."
"You are right," cried Rudolph, a new light bursting upon him; it's evident: I comprehend now; yes, always the same calculation. The countess persists in believing, that by succeeding in breaking every tie of affection, she will make me feel the want of her. This is as odious as useless. Yet such an unworthy prosecution must have an end. It is not only against me, but against all who merit respect, interest, and pity, that this woman directs her attacks. You will send M. de Graun at once, officially, to the countess; he will declare to her that I am advised of the part she has taken in the abduction of Fleur-de-Marie, and that if she does not give me the necessary information, so that I can recover this unhappy child, I shall act without pity, and then it is to justice M. de Graun must address himself."
"From the letter of Madame d'Harville, the Goualeuse must be confined at Saint Lazare."
"Yes, but Rigolette affirms that she saw her free, coming out of this prison. There is a mystery to be cleared up."