"Au revoir!"
The young men walked rapidly away toward the city, while Léodgard slowly crossed the Pont-aux-Choux, glancing furtively behind him from time to time.
XXVII
THE FOSSÉS JAUNES
Valentine de Mongarcin was reclining carelessly on a sofa in her music room. That was her usual place of refuge when she was not with her aunt; but for several days past the study of the zither and mandolin had been abandoned.
The noble heiress had learned from her maid that the little clerk's tales were founded on truth; Miretta had told her what she had learned from Giovanni. From that moment Valentine's lovely features had shown signs of gloomy preoccupation. If a smile sometimes played about her lips, it seemed inspired rather by the hope of vengeance than by one of those agreeable thoughts which usually cause young girls to smile.
Valentine rang a bell, and Miretta soon stood before her.
"Did you do my errand, Miretta? Did you go to the office of my aunt's solicitor?"
"Yes, mademoiselle; I went there this morning. I easily found Maître Bourdinard's office; it is on Rue du Bac. I crossed Pont-Rouge, which, they say, was built not long ago to take the place of the ferry [bac] that used to be established there, opposite that street, which took its name therefrom.—Oh! I am beginning to know Paris very well now!"
"Well, did you find that little clerk who came here the other day, and to whom I owe such—such valuable discoveries?"
"Monsieur Bahuchet? No, mademoiselle, he was not at the office; but there were several other clerks, who stared at me so insolently that I was very much embarrassed. When I asked for Monsieur Bahuchet, all the scribblers began to laugh; and they made some very coarse jests among themselves, which brought the blood to my cheeks.