Inquiring of the first person whom she met the way to Michel Greboeuf's house, Madame de Valricour at once bent her steps thither, and soon reached the spot. Anything more miserable and dilapidated than Greboeuf's cottage could hardly be conceived, though it was perhaps no worse than the dwellings of most people of his class in France at that time. Michel was standing at the door, and a very small exercise of Madame de Valricour's powers was required in order to obtain from him the fullest corroboration of all she had heard from Father Hypolite. "Though, to be sure," continued the simple-hearted peasant, who was quite won over by the gracious condescension of so grand a personage, "I think the young gentleman did not come here intending at first to marry the lady, but only to leave her for a time under our poor roof; but when they saw what a place it was they were in a great taking, as you may suppose, and he went down to Father Hypolite to talk about it, as I told him that the good man was always ready to help anybody in distress; and sure enough he came back presently and said they were to be married at once. The poor young lady was in a terrible way about it, I can tell you, madame. However, we all went down together to the chapel, and that is how it came about." "What! are they still here then?" asked Madame de Valricour, eagerly. "O dear, no!" replied Greboeuf. "Our poor place is not fit for the like of them, for I assure you, madame, I think they be quite gentle folks." "Poor place indeed! I should think so. What on earth could ever have brought them here?" "Why, you see, madame, a cousin of mine, a M. Perigord, who is employed at the Chateau de Beaujardin, sent them here to me, and asked me to do anything I could to help them; and I would give the last drop of my blood to serve my cousin Perigord, for we should all have perished long ago but for his kindness. He kept us alive all last winter, when things were so bad. Ah, madame, you great folks don't know what the poor people suffer. We had no fuel and had to lie a-bed to warm ourselves, till we were obliged to get rid even of our beds and last bits of furniture for a mouthful of bread. But my cousin heard of it and helped us. As for those who haven't got such a friend, what with crown taxes, duties, fines, tolls, and forced labour on the roads, manorial dues, seigneurial rights, and I don't know how many more heart-vexing imposts and exactions besides, there's nothing left to subsist upon; and that's hard when one hears how grandly all the great folks live, and never lift a finger to keep the poor from starving." "But where have they gone?" inquired the lady, eagerly. "Well, madame, I took them on to the next village, where the gentleman got a good horse, and presently rode away with his young wife on a pillion behind him. They have gone to Nantes, where a brother of my cousin Perigord keeps an inn on the Quai La Fosse."