"Do you know if Dame Moulinet be still living, and where she is?" asked Jean Charost.
"She was living a year ago, and not ten miles from Bourges," replied De Royans. "In the village of Solier, hard by the Cher. I had one of her sons in my troop. She and her husband are well to do now, for they have got her father's inheritance. They were tenants of that old Monsieur de Solier whose daughter our dear lord and master, the Duke of Orleans, carried off by force from her husband."
Jean Charost started, and exclaimed, "Merciful Heaven!"
"Ay, it was bad enough," said De Royans. "Our noble lord had his little faults and his great ones; and some of them. I have a notion, imbittered his last hours. This, above all others, I believe, affected him, for it had a terrible termination, as I dare say you remember."
"No--no," answered Jean Charost; "I never heard of it before. How did it end?"
"Why, the lady died," said De Royans, gravely. "No one of the household very well knew how, unless it was Lomelini. Some say that she was poisoned--some, that she was stabbed in her sleep."
"Not by the duke!" exclaimed Jean Charost, with a look of horror.
"God forbid!" cried Juvenel de Royans, eagerly. "He only loved her too well. No; there were strange tales going; but certain it is she died, and her death nearly deprived the duke of reason, they thought. Now, I recollect, you first came about that very time. The lady had been ill some months; but, as there was the cry of a babe in the house--one might hear it from the garden--we thought that natural enough. Her death, however, surprised us all. Hypocritical Lomelini would have us believe that it was remorse that killed her; but there were a great many strange things took place just then. One of the judges of the Châtelet was brought to the palace--there were secret investigations, and I know not what. Your coming about that time made us think you had something to do with the affair. Some said you were her younger brother. But what makes you look so sad, De Brecy?"
"The subject is a sad one," answered Jean Charost; "and, moreover, new lights are breaking upon me, De Royans. Do you think, if Lomelini is still living, he could give me information upon those events?"
"He could, if he would," answered his companion. "He is living, and as sleek as ever, and Abbot of Briare; but I can tell you, I think, all that remains to be told. Poor old Monsieur De Solier died of grief. I shall never forget his coming to the Palais d'Orleans, to persuade the duke to give his daughter up, nor the despair of his countenance when the duke would not see him. The husband made away with himself, I believe, which was a pity, for they say this Count De St. Florent was as good a soldier as any of his day, and had fought in many a battle under Charles the Fifth. However, he never was heard of more, from the time the duke carried off his wife, during his absence. That is all that is to tell. One--two--three, died miserably for a prince's pleasures; and he himself had his heart wrung with remorse, which is better, perhaps, than could be said of most princes. It is a sad history, though a brief one."