"Well, I know more than you. I know what they did with that child and what became of it."
"Is it possible?"
"At least, I think I'm on the track of the mystery."
"And if you are not mistaken, what do you expect to do, monsieur le comte?"
"Oh! I don't know yet; it is all so shocking, so detestable! I cannot listen coolly when those events are being talked about. Adieu, Monsieur de Merval; I am going back to the country. I need to breathe the country air in order to restore my tranquillity, to help me to recover from the emotions of this day."
Monsieur de Merval did not try to detain Brévanne, whose state of irritation he appreciated; and the count at once returned to Nogent.
Pongo was waiting for his master, teaching Carabi to pretend to be dead. Mère Brunoy was sewing, and Georget was going and coming about the garden, for the poor fellow could not keep still. Since he had been to Paris, and had seen how sad Violette looked and how she had changed, her image constantly haunted him; and when he saw his patron start for Paris that morning, he had been twenty times on the point of asking leave to accompany him, but he had not dared; after the oath he had lately taken, it would have been showing too little strength of character. So the young lover had remained at Nogent, where the day had seemed endless to him; and he hovered about the gate, in order to see the count when he returned, hoping that he might have seen Violette again and would speak of her to him.
Monsieur de Brévanne returned during the afternoon; but his brow was dark, his expression more thoughtful than usual. Without a word he passed his household, who bowed before him; and he shut himself up in his room at once.
"Master no want to talk," said the mulatto to Georget, "him not nod his head and say good-day; him not in good temper."
"Oh! I saw that too; he didn't say a single word as he passed.—I suppose he didn't see her—he has other things on his mind. Well, he won't speak to me about her, and he looks too stern for me to mention her to him."