"No," replied Alfred; "I do not like blood; but I have a right to claim the perpetual seclusion of this evil-doer; my repose requires it; my health commands it; the law accords me this reparation; otherwise, I leave la France--ma belle France! That is what they'll gain!" And Alfred, swallowed up in his grief, walked majestically out of the lodge, like one of those imposing victims of ancient fatality. CHAPTER XVIII. CECILY. Before we relate the conversation between Mrs. Seraphin and Mrs. Pipelet, we will inform the reader that Anastasia, without suspecting the least in the world the virtue and devotion of the notary, blamed extremely the severity he had shown toward Louise Morel and Germain. Naturally she included Mrs. Seraphin in her reprobation; but like a skillful politician, for reasons which we will show by and by, she concealed her feeling for the housekeeper under a most cordial reception. After having formally disapproved of the unworthy conduct of Cabrion, Mrs. Seraphin added, "What has become of M. Bradamanti (Polidori)? Last night I wrote to him--no answer; this morning I came to find him--no one. I hope this time I shall be more fortunate." Mrs. Pipelet feigned to be very much vexed. "Ah!" cried she, "you must have bad luck." "How?" "M. Bradamanti has not come in." "It is insupportable!" "It is vexing, my poor Mrs. Seraphin!" "I have so much to say to him." "It is just like fate." "So much the more, as I have to invent so many pretexts for coming here; for if M. Ferrand ever suspected that I knew a quack, he being so devout and scrupulous, you can judge of the scene." "Just like Alfred. He is so prudish, that he is startled at everything." "And you do not know when Bradamanti will come in?" "He made an appointment for six or seven o'clock in the evening, for he told me to say to the person to call again if he had not returned. Come back this evening, you will be sure to find him." Anastasia added to herself: "You can count on this: in one hour he will be on the road to Normandy." "I will return then to-night," said Mrs. Seraphin, much annoyed; "but I have something else to say to you, my dear Mrs. Pipelet. You know what has happened to this wench of a Louise, whom every one thought so virtuous?" "Don't speak of it," answered Mrs. Pipelet, raising her eyes with compunction, "it makes my hair stand on end." "I want to tell you that we have no servant; and that if by chance you should hear a girl spoken of, virtuous, hard-working, honest, you will be very kind if you will address her to me. Good subjects are so difficult to find, that one has to look on all sides for them." "Be quite easy, Mrs. Seraphin. If I hear of any one, I will inform you. Good places are as difficult to find as good subjects;" then she added mentally, "Very likely I'd send you a poor girl to be starved to death in your hovel! Your master is too miserly and too wicked--to denounce, in one breath, poor Louise and poor M. Germain."