Imbert ordered this woman instantly to leave the castle, since, if her
accusation were true, he would kill her just as though she had
invented a tissue of lies. In an instant he had given her a hundred
crowns, besides her man, enjoining them not to sleep in Touraine; and
for greater security, they were conducted into Burgundy, by de
Bastarnay's officers. He informed his wife of their departure, saying,
that as her servant was a damaged article he had thought it best to
get rid of her, but had given her a hundred crowns, and found
employment for the man at the Court of Burgundy. Bertha was astonished
to learn that her maid had left the castle without receiving her
dismissal from herself, her mistress; but she said nothing. Soon
afterwards she had other fish to fry, for she became a prey to vague
apprehensions, because her husband completely changed in his manner,
commenced to notice the likeness of his first-born to himself, and
could find nothing resembling his nose, or his forehead, his this, or
his that, in the youngest he loved so well.

"He is my very image," replied Bertha one day that he was throwing out
these hints. "Know you not that in well regulated households, children
are formed from the father and mother, each in turn, or often from
both together, because the mother mingles her qualities with the vital
force of the father? Some physicians declare that they have known many
children born without any resemblance to either father or mother, and
attribute these mysteries to the whim of the Almighty."

"You have become very learned, my dear," replied Bastarnay; "but I,
who am an ignoramus, I should fancy that a child who resembles a
monk--"

"Had a monk for a father!" said Bertha, looking at him with an