"You have a sister, of whom a lady at Clermont took charge, and that sister, who is now seventeen years old and very pretty, a young man from Paris fell in love with; he seduced her, ran away with her——"
"What, madame!—you know?"
"I know everything; I know all about Albert's conduct. Keep your seat, and listen to me. For a long time past, led by motives which you cannot understand, I have had Albert's every movement watched. I knew of his return to Paris a little more than two months ago; and of your sister's residence on Rue de Grenelle-Saint-Germain, and of her removal. Lastly, I know of your interview on Rue Grange-aux-Belles."
"But who can have told you—unless it was my sister—or Monsieur Albert?"
"Neither the one nor the other! Mon Dieu! you are a messenger, and yet you do not know that by the free use of money one can be informed of every act of a person whom one chooses to have watched! Now, listen to me: you flattered yourself that Albert would keep the promise he made your sister, that he would repair the wrong he had done her, by marrying her. He will do nothing of the sort. Albert is like most young men, inconstant and unfaithful. Possession very soon extinguishes his love. He was very much in love with your sister when he abducted her, but now he would cry out at the idea of being faithful to her; as for marrying her, he never dreamed of it; and since he has learned that Adeline is the sister of a messenger, he can't understand how anyone else can dream of such a marriage."
"The coward! the sneak!"
"And now, what do you suppose he has done, after travelling with your sister for two months, regretting his liberty and the pleasures of Paris every day, and cursing his folly?"
"Finish, madame, finish!"
"He has hired a little cottage at Lagny for the poor girl, and, after giving her a sum of money and promising to return, he has left her there, fully determined never to see her again."
"Great God! the villain! Ah! if that was true!"