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"Oh! madame, do not think it," cried Fleur-de-Marie; "you are sent by them--I have no question to ask--I follow you blindly; only tell me if Madame George is well!"
"She is perfectly so."
"And--M. Rudolph?"
"Perfectly well also."
"You know him, then, ma'am? Yet just now, when I spoke of him with Rigolette, you said nothing."
"Because I must say nothing--I have my orders."
"Did he give them to you?"
"Isn't she curious, the dear; isn't she curious?" said the housekeeper, laughing.
"You are right; pardon my questions, ma'am. Since we go on foot to the place to which you conduct me," added Fleur-de-Marie, sweetly, "I shall know what I so much desire to know."
"In fact, my dear, before a quarter of an hour we shall have arrived."
The housekeeper, having left behind her the last houses of Batignolles followed, with Fleur-de-Marie, a gra.s.sy footpath. The day was calm and beautiful, the sky toward the west half concealed by red and purple clouds; the sun, beginning to decline, cast his oblique rays on the heights of Colombe, on the other side of the Seine. As Fleur-de-Marie drew near the banks of the river, her pale cheeks became slightly colored; she inhaled with delight the sharp, pure air of the country, and cried, in a burst of artless joy, "Oh! there in the middle of the river, do you see that pretty little island covered with willows and poplars, with the white house on the sh.o.r.e? How charming this habitation must be in summer, when all the trees are covered with leaves! What repose, what refres.h.i.+ng air must be found there."
"Verily!" said Mrs. Seraphin with a strange smile, "I am delighted that you find the island pretty."
"Why, madame?"
"Because we are going there."
"To that island?"
"Yes; does it surprise you?"
"A little, ma'am."
"And if you should find your friends there?"
"What do you say?"
"Your friends collected there, to celebrate your deliverance from prison! would you not be more agreeably surprised?"
"Can it be possible: M. Rudolph? Ah! is it true I go to see Madame George? I cannot believe it."
"Yet a little patience--in fifteen minutes you will see her, and then you will believe."
"What I cannot comprehend," added Fleur-de-Marie, thoughtfully, "is that Madame George awaits me there, instead of at the farm."
"Always so curious, the dear--always so curious!"
"How indiscreet I am, ma'am!" said Fleur-de-Marie, smiling.
"To punish you, I have a mind to tell you of a surprise that your friends intend for you."
"A surprise? for me, madame?"
"Hold, leave me alone, little spy--you will make me speak in spite of myself."
We will leave Mrs. Seraphin and her victim on the road which led to the river. We will precede them both for some moments to the island.
CHAPTER x.x.xIII.
ON THE BOAT.
At night, the appearance of the island inhabited by the Martial family was gloomy, but in the brilliant sunlight nothing could be more charming and cheerful than the cursed dwelling-place.
Bordered by willows and poplars and almost entirely covered with thick gra.s.s, intersected with winding paths of yellow gravel, the island contained a small vegetable garden and a number of fruit trees. In this orchard was situated the thatched roof dwelling where Martial had wished to retire, with Francois and Amandine. From this place the island terminated at its point by a breakwater, formed of large piles, to prevent the was.h.i.+ng away of the earth.
Before the house was an arbor of green trellis work, reaching quite to the landing-place, destined to support during the summer the hop-vine and honeysuckle under whose shade were arranged the seats and tables of the guests.
At one of the extremities of the main building, painted white and covered with tiles, a woodhouse, surmounted by a granary, formed a wing, much lower than the princ.i.p.al edifice. Immediately over this wing was a window with shutters covered with plates of iron, and fastened exteriorly by two bars of the same material.
Three boats were lying at the landing-place, and at the bottom of one of them Nicholas was trying how the trap worked which he had arranged.
Mounted on a bench outside of the arbor, Calabash, with her eyes shaded with her hand, was looking in the direction where she expected Seraphin and Fleur-de-Marie to appear.
"No one yet, neither old nor young," said Calabash, descending from her bench, and addressing Nicholas; "it will be as yesterday! Like poor fellows waiting for their s.h.i.+p to come in! If these women don't come before a half hour, we must go: the affair of Bras-Rouge is better worth our while; he is waiting for us. The broker is to be at his house in the Champs Elysees at five-o'clock--we must be there before him. This very morning La Chouette repeated it to us."
"You are right," answered Nicholas, leaving his boat. "May the thunder crush this old woman, who physics us for no purpose! The trap works like a charm--of the two jobs perhaps we shall have neither."
"Besides, Bras-Rouge and Barbillon have need of us--of themselves they can do nothing."
"It is true; for while one does the business, Red-Arm must remain outside his tavern to watch, and Barbillon is not strong enough to drag the broker into the cellar alone; this old woman will kick."
"Did not La Chouette tell us, laughingly, that she kept the Maitre d'Ecole as a boarder in this cellar?"
"Not in this one; in another which is much deeper, and inundated when the river is high."
"Mustn't he vegetate there, in that cellar! To be there all alone and blind as he is, after the accident to him!"
"He will see clear there, if he sees nowhere else: the cellar is as dark as a furnace."
"All the same; when he has sung all the songs he knows to amuse himself, the time must appear devilishly long to him."
"La Chouette says that he amuses himself in hunting rats, and that this cellar is very full of game."
"I say, Nicholas, speaking of individuals who must be rather wearied, fatigued," said Calabash with a ferocious smile, pointing with her finger to the window just described, "there is one there who must be sucking his own blood."