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A Start in Life [13]

By Root 1112 0
nine o'clock, he having then gone to bed, she was

ushered into his study the next morning at seven.



"Monsieur," she said to the cabinet-minister, "we are incapable, my

husband and I, of writing anonymous letters, therefore I have come to

see you in person. I am Madame de Reybert, nee de Corroy. My husband

is a retired officer, with a pension of six hundred francs, and we

live at Presles, where your steward has offered us insult after

insult, although we are persons of good station. Monsieur de Reybert,

who is not an intriguing man, far from it, is a captain of artillery,

retired in 1816, having served twenty years,--always at a distance

from the Emperor, Monsieur le comte. You know of course how difficult

it is for soldiers who are not under the eye of their master to obtain

promotion,--not counting that the integrity and frankness of Monsieur

de Reybert were displeasing to his superiors. My husband has watched

your steward for the last three years, being aware of his dishonesty

and intending to have him lose his place. We are, as you see, quite

frank with you. Moreau has made us his enemies, and we have watched

him. I have come to tell you that you are being tricked in the

purchase of the Moulineaux farm. They mean to get an extra hundred

thousand francs out of you, which are to be divided between the

notary, the farmer Leger, and Moreau. You have written Moreau to

invite Margueron, and you are going to Presles to-day; but Margueron

will be ill, and Leger is so certain of buying the farm that he is now

in Paris to draw the money. If we have enlightened you as to what is

going on, and if you want an upright steward you will take my husband;

though noble, he will serve you as he has served the State. Your

steward has made a fortune of two hundred and fifty thousand francs

out of his place; he is not to be pitied therefore."



The count thanked Madame de Reybert coldly, bestowing upon her the

holy-water of courts, for he despised backbiting; but for all that, he

remembered Derville's doubts, and felt inwardly shaken. Just then he

saw his steward's letter and read it. In its assurances of devotion

and its respectful reproaches for the distrust implied in wishing to

negotiate the purchase for himself, he read the truth.



"Corruption has come to him with fortune,--as it always does!" he said

to himself.



The count then made several inquiries of Madame de Reybert, less to

obtain information than to gain time to observe her; and he wrote a

short note to his notary telling him not to send his head-clerk to

Presles as requested, but to come there himself in time for dinner.



"Though Monsieur le comte," said Madame de Reybert in conclusion, "may

have judged me unfavorably for the step I have taken unknown to my

husband, he ought to be convinced that we have obtained this

information about his steward in a natural and honorable manner; the

most sensitive conscience cannot take exception to it."



So saying, Madame de Reybert, nee de Corroy, stood erect as a pike-

staff. She presented to the rapid investigation of the count a face

seamed with the small-pox like a colander with holes, a flat, spare

figure, two light and eager eyes, fair hair plastered down upon an

anxious forehead, a small drawn-bonnet of faded green taffetas lined

with pink, a white gown with violet spots, and leather shoes. The

count recognized the wife of some poor, half-pay captain, a puritan,

subscribing no doubt to the "Courrier Francais," earnest in virtue,

but aware of the comfort of a good situation and eagerly coveting it.



"You say your husband has a pension of six hundred francs," he said,

replying to his own thoughts, and not to the remark Madame de Reybert

had just made.



"Yes, monsieur."



"You were born a Corroy?"



"Yes, monsieur,--a noble family of Metz, where my husband belongs."



"In what regiment did Monsieur de Reybert serve?"



"The
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