The fortune-teller turned over her pack of cards. “You are looking for something that is lost,” she said. “Ah, I see by the cards that it is a cat.” She turned over a few more, “My poor lady,” she said sorrowfully, “your cat has been sold to a butcher, and eaten for a rabbit!” Mother Michel was just beginning to wring her hands with grief, when she heard a violent scratching at the door, and then, right through a pane of glass bounded Moumouth, and jumped straight into her friendly lap. “You wicked woman!” cried Mother Michel, angrily; “first you steal our cat, and then you pretend that he is dead. Oh, this is a fine tale to tell my mistress, the Countess. She’ll have you put in prison for this!” “Mercy! Mercy!” begged the fortune-teller, falling on her knees. “I did not know the cat was yours. It was brought to me by a little lad named Faribole, who knew I wanted one. Forgive me! Do not have me punished for a thing that I did not know was wrong.” Mother Michel was so happy at finding Moumouth that she readily forgave the poor woman, and hurried home to show the dear pet to the Countess. Madame de la Grenouillière was as delighted to see Moumouth as her companion had been to find him. When they had petted him and fed him and, at last, left him asleep on a down cushion, they sent for Faribole, and asked him why he had done so wicked a thing. “Oh,” cried the poor boy, “I wanted to save him from Monsieur Lustucru, and that seemed to be the only way. He wanted me to beat him to death.” No one believed him, of course. The steward indignantly denied such intentions, and poor Faribole was sent away in disgrace. But Lustucru’s wickedness could not always remain hidden. Some days after Moumouth’s return, while looking through her cupboard, Mother Michel found three dead rats and the remains of the chicken patties that Moumouth had refused to eat. She carried them to the Countess, and they sent for the steward. “Oh, Lustucru,” said his mistress, “the rats are troubling me so in here that I wanted to know if you had any rat-poison.” “Certainly, Madame,” he replied, bowing. “Wait one moment, and I will bring it to you.” The Countess soon found that the two poisons were exactly the same, and, besides, there began to be people who said that they had seen Lustucru throw Moumouth from the bridge into the Seine. The steward, who feared that he would receive his just reward, ran away suddenly one night, and took service shortly after on a ship that was wrecked on the Sandwich Islands. And so all his sins were punished, for it is said that the cannibals ate him for dinner the next day!