"And I have
confided my most precious secrets to this wicked woman!" thought
Mademoiselle Marguerite. "Fool that I was!"
Already thoroughly convinced, she extinguished her candle. Still,
having discovered so much, she wished to pursue her investigation
to the end, and so she opened the little gate. The ground outside
had been soaked by the recent rains, and had not yet dried, and by
the light of the neighboring street-lamp, she plainly
distinguished a number of well-defined footprints on the muddy
soil. An experienced observer would have realized by the
disposition of these footprints that something like a struggle had
taken place here; but Mademoiselle Marguerite was not sufficiently
expert for that. She only understood what a child would have
understood--that two people had been standing here for some time.
Poor girl! She had not seen Pascal when he was sitting in front of
the mansion some hours before! And now no presentiment warned her
that these footprints were his. In her opinion, the man who had
been talking with Madame Leon was either M. de Fondege, or the
Marquis de Valorsay--that is to say, Madame Leon was hired to
watch her and to render an account of all she said and did.
Her first impulse was to denounce and dismiss this miserable
hypocrite; but as she was returning to the house, an idea which an
old diplomatist need not have been ashamed of entered her mind.
She said to herself that as Madame Leon was unmasked she was no
longer to be feared; so why should she be sent away? A known spy
can undoubtedly be made a most valuable auxiliary.
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