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"Strike all alone! strike until the cat has ceased to move!" and he rejoined Mother Michel in the court, where the domestics were drawn up in a line like a well-drilled battalion.
On stepping from the carriage Madame de la Grenouillere honored her servitors with a benevolent glance, embraced Mother Michel with touching familiarity, and demanded news of Moumouth.
[Ill.u.s.tration: The Countess embraces Mother Michel.]
"Your protege is wonderfully well," said Mother Michel, "he grows fatter and handsomer under our very eyes; but it may be said, without injury to the truth, that his moral qualities are even beyond his physical charms."
"Poor friend, if he does not love me he will be a monster of ingrat.i.tude, for since our separation I have thought of him constantly; Heaven has taken away many beings that were dear to me, but Moumouth will be the consolation of my old age!"
As soon as the Countess had given the orders which her arrival made necessary, she prayed Mother Michel to fetch Moumouth.
"He will be charmed to see you again, madame," Mother Michel answered; "he is in the garden in the care of Faribole, a little young man whom your steward judged proper to admit to the house; the young rogue and the cat have become a pair of intimate friends."
[Ill.u.s.tration: Faribole seated in the Garden.]
Mother Michel went down to the garden and there found Faribole alone, seated upon a bench, and with a preoccupied air stripping the leaves from a branch of boxwood which he held in his hand.
"My friend," said the good woman, "Madame, the Countess, desires you to bring Moumouth to her."
"Moumouth!" stammered Faribole, starting at the name as if he had been stung by a wasp.
"Yes, Moumouth; I thought he was with you."
"He just quitted me; some persons pa.s.sing in the street made a noise that frightened him, and he leaped into the hedge."
Mother Michel, after having spent more than half an hour in scouring the garden, returned to Madame de la Grenouillere and said: "Moumouth is absent, madame; but do not be anxious; he disappeared once before, and we found him in the garret."
"Let him be searched for! I do not wish to wait. I desire to see him this instant!"
Alas! this desire was not likely to be gratified, if any reliance could be placed upon the words exchanged in the dark between l.u.s.tucru and his accomplice.
"Well, did you do it?"
"Yes, Monsieur l.u.s.tucru, I pounded until the cat ceased to move."
"What have you done with the body?"
"I have thrown it into the Seine."
"Was he quite dead?"
"He didn't stir."
"Anyway, the sack was securely fastened. Justice is done!"
CHAPTER VIII.
IN WHICH MOTHER MICHEL SEARCHES FOR HER CAT.
Several days pa.s.sed in painful expectation; but the cat, like General Marlborough, did not come back. The despair of Madame de la Grenouillere was sincere, profound, and silent,--all the more intense because it was suppressed. She continually pictured to herself the charming ways of Moumouth, his natural goodness, his superior intelligence. No animal had ever displayed to her so many brilliant qualities; not one of her previous favorites had ever caused her such bitter regrets.
Generous in her misfortune, she did not reproach Mother Michel; on the contrary, the Countess sought to comfort that poor woman, who had given herself up wholly to grief. The Countess said to her one night:--
"What can you do against an irresistible calamity? The wisdom of man consists not in struggling with unhappiness, but in submitting himself to the will of Heaven."
"I am of your opinion," replied Mother Michel. "If I believed, like you, in the death of Moumouth, I would resign myself without a murmur. But I have the idea that he still lives; I picture him running through the streets, the victim of ill treatment, with saucepans, may be"--
"Go to, Mother Michel, you deceive yourself; Moumouth is dead, otherwise he would have come back to us."
"Something tells me that he is still in this world, and if Madame the Countess wishes to have tidings of him, she has only to address herself"--
"To whom?"
"To our neighbor, Madame Bradamor, that celebrated fortune-teller, who predicts the future, removes freckles, reads in the Book of Destinies, and charms away the toothache."
"Fie, Mother Michel! how can you, a sensible woman, have any confidence in the juggling of an adventuress?"
"But, madame, I am not alone; the most distinguished people go to Madame Bradamor; she is more learned and less dear than her rivals, and asks only ten crowns to make you behold the devil Astaroth."
"Enough, for pity's sake!" responded the Countess, dryly.
Mother Michel remained silent; but she had made up her mind, and, the first time she had a moment of liberty, she ran to the house of the necromancer.
The fortune-teller occupied a s.p.a.cious apartment richly furnished, for she gained a great deal of money by cheating the public. Her consultation-room was draped with hangings of black velvet sprinkled with gilt stars; upon a square table, in the centre of the chamber, stood painted tin obelisks, jars of electricity, retorts, and divers mathematical instruments, of whose uses the pretended sorceress was quite ignorant, but which she had placed there in order to impose on the weak-minded persons who came to consult her.
She at first showed some embarra.s.sment on beholding Mother Michel; however, after having closed a gla.s.s door which communicated with the other apartments, she returned to salute her new client, and said in a solemn tone:--
"What is your desire?"
"To question the present, the past, and the future."
"I am the very one to satisfy you," replied Madame Bradamor; "but what you demand is very difficult, and will cost you three crowns."
"There they are; I give them to you with all my heart."
Madame Bradamor, full of regret that she had not insisted on having more, pocketed the money, and began in these terms:--
"What is the date of your birth?"
"The 24th of May, 1698."
"What are the initials of your name and the first letter of the place in which you were born?"
[Ill.u.s.tration: Mother Michel pays Three Crowns.]