at all this might be only an
exaggeration of the simple facts which he already knew; but Madame de
Valricour had said nothing to him of having been at St. Sulpice,
nothing about an actual marriage, nothing about a _lettre de cachet_
even against Marguerite, much less against his own son. He began to be
troubled.

"My good Perigord," said he, "I am afraid your zeal has outrun your
discretion, but I can pardon you even if your attachment to me and mine
has led you into some little extravagance. The thing can, however, be
soon tested. How do you know that the baroness has been at St.
Sulpice? Have you anything to show that your story about my son's
marriage is not a mere idle rumour? How can you know anything about
the _lettre de cachet_ that you talk of?" And as he asked the
questions the marquis quite regained his usual calmness and
self-possession, which had for a moment been disturbed.

Monsieur Perigord was ready with his proofs; and with his master's
permission forthwith summoned Michel Greboeuf, who had come to the
chateau an hour since. Not only was he able to describe his own
conversation with Madame de Valricour, from which her presence at St.
Sulpice and her knowledge of the marriage at once became evident, but
he stated that he had met at the little village inn a strange man who
over his cups had let out that he was in the employ of a M. de Crillon,
and that they were looking out for a youngster of quality, who would
soon find out to his cost that his master had in his pocket a little
document with the signature of His Most Christian Majesty, which would
provide him with a lodging for life, if even worse did not befall him.

In spite of his agitation, the marquis succeeded in commanding himself
so far as to be able to question Greboeuf more than once respecting the
circumstances he had narrated; but the more he questioned the more
clear it became that he was telling the truth. At best, Madame de
Valricour's concealment of many things that must have been within her
knowledge, and which Isidore's father had the most undoubted right to
know, showed that she was deceiving him. Most of all his mind dwelt on
the fact that she had learned that Isidore had fled to Nantes, whereas
she had professed complete ignorance as to his whereabouts. With as
much composure as he could assume the marquis dismissed Greboeuf with a
handsome reward, and now turning to Perigord, said, "But even if we are
sure that they hav