Oh, that woman!"
"Come my child," said M. Tabaret, softly, "try not to be too unjust. You
seem to direct all your resentment against Madame Gerdy? Really, in my
opinion, the count is far more deserving of your anger than she is."
"True," interrupted Noel, with a certain degree of violence,--"true,
the count is guilty, very guilty. He is the author of the infamous
conspiracy, and yet I feel no hatred against him. He has committed a
crime, but he has an excuse, his passion. Moreover, my father has not
deceived me, like this miserable woman, every hour of my life, during
thirty years. Besides, M. de Commarin has been so cruelly punished,
that, at this present moment, I can only pardon and pity him."
"Ah! so he has been punished?" interrogated the old fellow.
"Yes, fearfully, as you will admit. But allow me to continue. Towards
the end of May, or, rather, during the first days of June, the count
must have arrived in Paris, for the correspondence ceases. He saw Madame
Gerdy, and the final arrangements of the conspiracy were decided on.
Here is a note which removes all uncertainty on that point. On the day
it was written, the count was on service at the Tuileries, and unable
to leave his post.
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