LITMIR.BIZ

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of securing some information from you. Come now, try and think if you can not remember some young girl in whom Madame de Beaumesnil has seemed to take a special interest for some time past."

      "I can remember no one, absolutely no one," answered Madame Dupont after several minutes of profound reflection.

      The thought of Herminie did occur to her, but was instantly dismissed, for there had been nothing in Madame de Beaumesnil's manner towards the young musician that indicated any special interest; besides, she and the countess had met for the first time less than a fortnight before the latter's death, while the marquis declared that the young girl of whom he was in search had been under Madame de Beaumesnil's protection for a long time.

      "Then I must endeavour to secure my information elsewhere," said the marquis, with a sigh.

      "Wait a moment, M. le marquis," exclaimed Madame Dupont. "What I am going to tell you may have no connection with the young girl of whom you speak, but it will do no harm to mention it."

      "Let me hear what it is."

      "The day before her death, madame la comtesse sent for me, and said: 'Take a cab and carry this letter to a woman who lives in the Batignolles. Do not tell her who sent you, but bring her back with you, and show her up to my room immediately upon her arrival.'"

      "And this woman's name?"

      "Was a very peculiar one, M. le marquis, and I have not forgotten it. She is called Madame Barbançon."

      "Was she a frequent visitor at Madame de Beaumesnil's house?"

      "She was never there except that once."

      "And did you bring this woman to Madame de Beaumesnil's?"

      "I did not."

      "How was that?"

      "After giving me the order I just spoke of, madame seemed to change her mind, for she said to me: 'All things considered, Madame Dupont, you had better not take a cab. It would give the affair an air of mystery. Order out the carriage, give this letter to the footman, and tell him to deliver it to the person to whom it is addressed.'"

      "And he found the woman?"

      "Yes, M. le marquis."

      "And did Madame de Beaumesnil have a conversation with her?"

      "The interview lasted at least two hours, M. le marquis."

      "How old was this woman?"

      "Fifty years of age at the very least, and a very ordinary person."

      "And after her interview with the countess?"

      "She was taken back to her home in madame's carriage."

      "And you say she has never been at the Hôtel de Beaumesnil since?"

      "No, M. le marquis."

      After remaining silent for some time, the hunchback turned to Madame Dupont, and asked:

      "What did you say this woman's name was?"

      "Madame Barbançon."

      The hunchback wrote down the name in his note-book, then asked:

      "And she lives where?"

      "In the Batignolles."

      "The street and number, if you please."

      "I do not know, M. le marquis. I only remember that the footman told us that the house where she lived was in a very quiet street, and that there was a garden, into which one could look through a small latticed gate."

      The hunchback, after jotting down these items in his note-book, said:

      "I thank you very much for this information, though it may be of little or no assistance to me in my search. If you should at any time recall other facts which you think may be of service, I hope you will notify me at once."

      "I will not fail to do so, M. le marquis."

      M. de Maillefort, having rewarded Madame Dupont handsomely, called a cab and ordered the coachman to drive him to the Batignolles.

      After two hours of persistent inquiry and assiduous search the marquis at last discovered Commander Bernard's house, where he found only Madame Barbançon at home.

      Olivier had left Paris several days before in company with his master mason, and the veteran had just gone out for his daily walk.

      The housekeeper on opening the door was so unpleasantly impressed by the visitor's deformity, that, instead of inviting him in, she remained standing upon the threshold, thus barring M. de Maillefort's passage.

      That gentleman, noting the unfavourable impression he was making upon the housekeeper, bowed very politely, and said:

      "Have I the honour of speaking to Madame Barbançon?"

      "Yes, monsieur; and what do you want of Madame Barbançon?"

      "I am desirous that you should grant me the honour of a few minutes' conversation."

      "And why, monsieur?" demanded the housekeeper, eyeing the stranger distrustfully.

      "I wish to confer with you, madame, on a very important matter."

      "But I do not even know you."

      "I have the advantage of knowing you, though only by name, it is true."

      "A fine story that! I, too, know the Grand Turk by name."

      "My dear Madame Barbançon, will you permit me to say that we could talk very much more at our ease inside, than out here on the doorstep."

      "I only care to be at ease with persons I like, monsieur," retorted the housekeeper, tartly.

      "I can understand your distrust, my dear madame," replied the marquis, concealing his impatience, "so I will vouch for myself by a name that is not entirely unknown to you."

      "What name is that?"

      "That of Madame la Comtesse de Beaumesnil."

      "Do you come at her request, monsieur?" asked the housekeeper, quickly.

      "At her request? No, madame," sadly replied the hunchback, shaking his head, "Madame de Beaumesnil is dead."

      "Dead! And when did the poor, dear lady die?"

      "Let us step inside and I will then answer your question," said the marquis, in an authoritative manner that rather awed Madame Barbançon; besides, she was very anxious to hear the particulars of Madame de Beaumesnil's death.

      "And you say that Madame de Beaumesnil is dead?" exclaimed the housekeeper, as soon as they had entered the house.

      "She died several days ago – the very next day after her interview with you."

      "What, monsieur, you know?"

      "I know that Madame de Beaumesnil had a long conversation with you, and I am fulfilling her last wishes in asking you to accept these twenty-five napoleons from her."

      And the hunchback showed Madame Barbançon a small silk purse filled with shining gold.

      The words "twenty-five napoleons" grievously offended the housekeeper's ears. Had the marquis said twenty-five louis the effect would probably have been entirely different.

      So instead of taking the proffered gold, Madame Barbançon, feeling all her former doubts revive, answered majestically, as she waved aside the purse with an expression of superb disdain:

      "I do not accept napoleons," accenting the detested name strongly; "no, I do not accept napoleons from the first person that happens to come along – without knowing – do you understand, monsieur?"

      "Without knowing what, my dear madame?"

      "Without knowing who these people are who say napoleons as if it would scorch their mouths if they should utter the word louis. But it is all plain enough now," she added, sardonically. "Tell me who you go with and I will tell you who you are. Now what do you want with me? I have my soup pot to watch."

      "As I told you before, madame, I came to bring you a slight token of Madame de Beaumesnil's gratitude for the discretion and reserve you displayed in a certain affair."

      "What

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