“It cost him nothing. That is the sort of man he is … ruthless. Then he brought Etienne to the chateau … his bastard son … to show her that if she could not give him sons others could.

It was a cruel thing to do. “

“Was she hurt?”

“She said to me once: ” I don’t care, Yvette, as long as I do not have to submit. He may have twenty bastard sons here as long as I don’t have to try to give him a legal one. ” You see how ruthless he is. He cares so little for his wife’s feelings that he brings Etienne here.

Etienne’s hopes are raised; so are those of his mother. They are hoping that Etienne will be legitimized and made the Comte’s heir, but he keeps them on tenterhooks. It amuses him. “

“One can only feel sorry for everyone concerned,” I said. She looked at me sharply and shook her head as though in despair.

I went on: “At least Ursule had her daughter.”

“She never cared greatly for Marguerite. I think the child reminded her of her birth and all she had suffered.”

“It was not Marguerite’s fault,” I said sharply.

“I should have thought it would have been natural for a mother to care for her child.”

“Marguerite soon showed herself well able to look after herself.

Nou-Nou was not very interested in the child either. Her care fell mostly to me. I was very drawn to her. She was such a gay little thing, vivacious, very wayward, impulsive . well, she has not changed much. “

“I am surprised that Ursule was indifferent to her.”

“She was always listless at this time. Soon after Marguerite’s birth she suffered another shock. Her mother died. She had been very fond of her mother and her death was a great blow to her.”

“So it was unexpected.”

Yvette was silent for a while, then she said: Her mother took her own life. ” I was startled.

“Yes,” went on Yvette.

“It was a great shock to us all. We did not know that she was ill. She had been suffering some internal pains but she had mentioned this for some time. But when the pain increased she could keep it secret no longer. When she heard that nothing could be done for it, she took an overdose of a sleeping draught.”

“Like … Ursule,” I murmured.

“No,” said Yvette firmly.

“Not like Ursule. Ursule would never have taken her own life. I know she wouldn’t. We talked of this again and again. Ursule was deeply religious. She believed in an after-life. She used to say to me: ” No matter what one suffers here, Yvette, it is all fleeting. That’s what I tell myself. We must endure it and the greater the suffering, the more rejoicing there will be when one comes to rest. My mother suffered pain and would have suffered more and she could not endure it. Oh, if only she had waited. ” Then she turned to me and gripped my hands and said:

“If only I had known. If only I could have talked to her …”

“And yet when something similar happened to her …”

“She was not in great pain then. I know.”

“You were not at the chateau,” I reminded her.

“When I left the chateau, we wrote to each other. We wrote every week.

She wanted to know every detail of my life and she gave me every detail of hers. She opened her heart to me. She kept nothing back.

When I left we had made this pact. Later she wrote that our letters were more revealing than our daily contacts. She said that we had become even closer through the pen than we had been before because it was so much easier to say exactly what one meant on paper. That was why I learned so much about her . when I was away from her, more than when I was with her. That is why I know that she would never have killed herself. “

“How then did she die?”

“Someone murdered her,” she said.

I went to my room and stayed there. I did not want to talk of Ursule’s death. I would not believe what Yvette was suggesting. That Yvette believed the Comte had killed his wife was without question.

And I knew that the intention of these conversations was to warn me.

In her mind she had put me with those women who had become fascinated by him and were picked up and made much of for a while and before they were cast off . minor affaires in a long stream of such, some of greater importance than others, like the one which had brought him Etienne.

In spite of everything I would not believe this of him. That he had had adventures I knew-indeed, when had he ever made a secret of that? but that our relationship was different, I was certain.

At times I believed I would be ready to forget everything that had gone before. Everything? Murder? But I would not believe he had killed his wife. He had killed Leon’s brother but that was different a reckless, thoughtless act which had ended in tragedy but which was quite different from premeditated murder.

While I was brooding there the door opened and Margot looked in. She was not quite her exuberant self.

“Is something wrong?” I cried, raising myself on my arm, for I was lying on my bed.

She sat on the chair near the mirror and looked at me frowning.

She nodded slowly.

“What’s happened? Chariot…?”

“Is as beautiful and bonny as ever.”

Then what? “

“It’s a note I’ve had. Armand said a woman had given it to him and it was to be delivered either to me or to you.”

“A note? Armand?”

“Please don’t repeat everything I say, Minelle. It maddens me.”

“Why should a woman give a note to Armand?”

“Because she must have known he comes from the chateau.”

Armand was a groom we had brought with us from the Chateau Silvaine.

Etienne had said he was a good man and had recommended us to bring him with us.

Where’s the note? ” I asked.

She held out a piece of paper. I took it and read:

It would be well for one of you to come to the Cafe des Fleurs at ten o’clock on Tuesday morning. You will be sorry if you fail. I know about the baby.

I stared at her.

“Who on earth could it be …?”

She shook her head impatiently.

“Oh, Minelle, what are we going to do?

It’s worse than Bessell and Mimi. “

“It looks to me,” I said, ‘as if it’s the same thing as Bessell and Mimi. “

“But here … in Grasseville. I’m frightened, Minelle.”

“It’s someone trying to blackmail you,” I said.

“How can you be sure?”

“The tone of the note.

“You'll be sorry …” It’s someone who has found out and wants to make something out of it. “

Whatever shall I do? “

Could you tell Robert the truth? “

“Are you mad? I never could … at least not yet. He thinks I’m so perfect, Minelle.”

“He’ll have to discover his error sooner or later. Why not sooner?”

“You can be so hard.”

“Then why not try someone else?”

“Someone else! You’re in this. It says ” one of you”. That means you as well.”

I think you should go. “

“I can’t Robert is taking me for a ride.”

Wen, cancel it. “

“What excuses could I make? I have to go. It would look so odd. He’d only want to know why…”

I hesitated. I flattered myself that this was a delicate situation which I could handle better than Margot. After all, I was involved. I had been with her during that fateful period. My mind ranged over who it could possibly be. Madame Gremond . someone from the house . perhaps someone to whom Bessell and Mimi had talked, someone who had seen them favoured and hoped to reap similar benefits.

When at length I said I would go she threw her arms round me. She knew she could rely on me to settle everything, she declared.

I said: “Listen. This is not settled. It has only just begun. I think you will have to consider telling Robert. That would scatter the blackmailers. You can never know when Bessell IS and Mimi are coming back with more demands.” E “Oh, Minelle, I’m so frightened. But you will go and you’ll ” ‘” know how to deal with them.”

“There is only one wise way in dealing with blackmailers and that is to tell them to do their worst.” ,.

She shook her head, real fear in her eyes. I was very fond “J of her and it was gratifying to see how happy she and Robert were together and I often laughed to think how ingeniously she had brought her baby into the family. But of course it was an uneasy situation and while she kept such a secret, which was inevitably shared by others, dangers could arise.

I was rather touched, too, by the manner in which she could shift everything on to my shoulders. I was sure she would be blithely happy during her morning with Robert. She could always live in the moment, which was perhaps a blessing in some ways, but it did sometimes leave the future to be cared for.

At five minutes to ten I arrived at the Cafe des Fleurs. I ordered my coffee and the usual gateau although I had no appetite for it, but I thought Madame would be surprised if I did not and I wanted this to be an ordinary morning. I received a little shock to see the man with the dark wig and the high shoulders walk over. He is the blackmailer, I thought. He has been watching me! But he took a seat some distance off and although he glanced my way he did not appear to be really looking at me.

A woman was coming towards me. Emilie! Madame Gremond’s maid, the quiet sister of the garrulous Jeanne. I might have known. I had always mistrusted those thin lips, those pale eyes which had never really looked straight at me.

“Mademoiselle is surprised?” she asked with an unpleasant smirk.

“Not entirely,” I replied.

“What is it you have to say? Please say it quickly and go.”

“Ill go in my own time. Mademoiselle. It is not you who calls the tune now, remember. It won’t take long to settle. I know now that the mother of the child was not Madame Ie Brun, but Madame de Grasseville, at that time Mademoiselle Fontaine Delibes, daughter of the great Comte.”

“You have worked very hard,” I said caustically.

“It’s a pity it was not in a more worthy cause.”

“It wasn’t difficult,” she said, with an air of modesty.

“We all knew that once Madame Gremond had been a great friend of the Comte Fontaine Delibes. She was very proud of it. He came to see her. Then all this happened. We thought Madame Ie Brun was one of his mistresses and the baby was his. Then Gaston took letters to Madame LeGrand  … because she and Madame Gremond had kept in touch with t each other. Ladies of misfortune … not altogether cast off.”

She sniggered and how I hated her whey-coloured face el “Gaston saw you and hung about and caught a glimpse of Madame de Grasseville. He heard how she was going to get married and then the cat was out of the bag, so to speak. Gaston and Jeanne want a little something to set up home with and I’d like a bit for my old age. We’d like a thousand francs each to start with, and if we don’t get it I shall go to the chateau and tell Madame’s husband the whole story.”

“You are an unscrupulous and wicked woman.”

“Who in my position would not be unscrupulous for three thousand francs?”

“Many, I hope. Do you make a practice of this sort of thing?”

“Such good fortune does not often come my way. Mademoiselle. Madame de Grasseville as she now is … talked too much. She gave clues. My sister listened and we talked it over with Gaston. If she had been the Comte’s mistress we wouldn’t have dared. But you see this is different. We don’t have to deal with the Comte, do we … but with Monsieur de Grasseville.”

“I shall see that Madame Gremond knows the sort of people she employs.”

“When we have our fortune what shall we care? Madame Gremond has to be careful of herself. Times are not good for such as she is … and for such as you. You will have to be careful how you treat the people now.

Come. Bring the francs tomorrow and all will be well’ “Until the next demand?”

“Perhaps there will be no more demands.”

The perpetual promise of the blackmailer, and made to be broken, of course. “

Emilie shrugged her shoulders.

“Madame is the one who will have to decide. She is the one who will have to face her husband. I wonder how he will feel about supporting his wife’s little bastard baby.”

I could have slapped her face and might have done so had we not been sitting at a cafe table. I fancied the man with the wig was watching and trying to hear what was said.

I stood up.

“I will take your message,” I said.