"I do not, unfortunately, at the present moment, but I have given directions to M. de Graün to use every effort to discover them, and, if needs must be, even to apply to the police for assistance. It is just probable that the unfortunate parent and child, finding themselves stripped of their little stock of furniture, may have sought refuge in some obscure lodging; and if so, there is every chance of discovering their abode, since the keepers of lodging-houses are obliged to write a daily report of every fresh inmate they receive."
"What a singular combination of events!" said Madame d'Harville, much astonished: "Your account is, indeed, a most interesting one."
"You have not heard all yet. In a corner of the fragment of writing found in the old secrétaire, are these words, 'To write to Madame de Lucenay.'"
"Oh, how fortunate!" exclaimed Madame d'Harville, with much animation. "No doubt the duchess can tell me all about these unfortunate ladies. But then," added she, thoughtfully, "I do not see, after all, how we shall be able to describe them, as we do not even know their name."
"Nay, it will be easy to inquire whether she is acquainted with a widow still in the prime of life, whose air and manner indicate her being far superior to her present circumstances, and who has a daughter about sixteen years of age named Claire. I am sure it was Claire the woman told me the younger female was called."
"How very strange! That is my child's name; and furnishes an additional reason for my interesting myself in their misfortunes."
"I forgot to tell you that the brother of this unhappy widow died by his own hands a very few months ago."
Madame d'Harville was silent for some minutes, as though reflecting deeply; at length she said:
"If Madame de Lucenay be in any way acquainted with this unfortunate family, these particulars will be quite sufficient to identify them; besides which the lamentable end of the brother must have fixed every circumstance connected with them more strongly in her memory. How impatient I feel to question the duchess on the subject! I will write her a note this very evening, begging of her not to go out to-morrow till I have seen her. Who can these interesting people be? From your account, my lord, I should say they certainly belong to the higher class of society, and must, therefore, feel their present distress so much the more keenly. Alas, to such as they the falling into such utter destitution must inflict a deeper, keener sting!"
"And all their sufferings have arisen from the knavery of an unprincipled scoundrel,—a notary, named Jacques Ferrand. But I am in possession of other acts of villainy on his part equally black with this."