“There is always a good place at the fireside of Maison-Forte, a good glass of Sauve-chrétien wine and a piece of silver for those who go there,” said a beggar.
“And his daughter! An angel! A perfect Notre Dame for the poor people,” said another.
“Well, who in the devil denies all that?” cried the consul. “Raimond V. kills wolves because he is fond of the chase. He does not mind a piece of silver or a pound of powder or a glass of wine, because he is rich, very rich; but he does all this to hide his perfidious designs.”
“What designs?” asked several auditors.
“The design of ruining our commerce, ravaging our city, in short, doing worse than the pirates, or the Duke d’Eperaon with his Gascons,” said the consul, with a mysterious air.
All this, which he did not believe, the consul had uttered as an experiment, and the alarming disclosure of some hidden design, exciting the curiosity of the crowd, was at last listened to with attention.
“Explain that to us, consul,” said all, with one voice.
“Master Isnard, who is a man of the law, is going to explain this tissue of dark and pernicious schemes,” said Talebard-Talebardon.
The recorder came forward with an anxious air, raised his eyes to heaven, and said:
“Your worthy consul, my friends, has told you nothing but what is, unfortunately, too true. We have proofs of it.”