All the persons who helped me in my magical operations with Madame d’Urfe betrayed me, Marcoline excepted, and all save the fair Venetian died miserably. Later on the reader will hear more of Possano and Costa.
The day before I left for London I supped with Madame du Rumain, who told me that her voice was already beginning to return. She added a sage reflection which pleased me highly.
“I should think,” she observed, “that the careful living prescribed by the cabala must have a good effect on my health.”
“Most certainly,” said I, “and if you continue to observe the rules you will keep both your health and your voice.”
I knew that it is often necessary to deceive before one can instruct; the shadows must come before the dawn.
I took leave of my worthy Madame d’Urfe with an emotion which I had never experienced before; it must have been a warning that I should never see her again. I assured her that I would faithfully observe all my promises, and she replied that her happiness was complete, and that she knew she owed it all to me. In fine, I took d’Aranda and his top-boots, which he was continually admiring, to my inn, whence we started in the evening, as he had begged me to travel by night. He was ashamed to be seen in a carriage dressed as a courier.
When we reached Abbeville he asked me where his mother was.
“But you can find out in a moment whether she is here or not?”
“And what will you do if she is not here?”
“We will go on till we meet her on the way. In the meanwhile let us go and see the famous manufactory of M. Varobes before dinner.”
“Go by yourself. I am tired, and I will sleep till you come back.”
I spent two hours in going over the magnificent establishment, the owner himself shewing it me, and then I went back to dinner and called for my young gentleman.
“He started for Paris riding post,” replied the innkeeper, who was also the post-master, “five minutes after you left. He said he was going after some dispatches you had left at Paris.”
“If you don’t get him back I will ruin you with law-suits; you had no business to let him have a horse without my orders.”
“I will capture the little rascal, sir, before he has got to Amiens.”
He called a smart-looking postillion, who laughed when he heard what was wanted.