"His bed is empty there, M'sieu'," she said, impressively, and pointing.

"I suppose I should trust you in this matter; I suppose you should know.
But, Dauphin--what does Dauphin say?"

The saddler laughed outright. Maximilian Cour suddenly blushed in
sympathy with Madame Dauphin, who now saw the drift of the Seigneur's
remarks, and was sensibly agitated, as the Seigneur had meant her to be.
Had she not turned Dauphin's human sympathies into a crime? Had not the
Notary supported the Seigneur in his friendly offices to Paulette Dubois;
and had not Madame troubled her husband's life because of it? Madame
bridled up now--with discretion, for it was not her cue to offend the
Seigneur.

"All the village knows his bed's empty there, M'sieu'," she said, with
tightening lips.

"I am subtracted from the total, then?" he asked drily.

"You have been away for the last five days--"

"Come, now, how did you know that?"

"Everybody knows it. You went away with the Colonel and the soldiers on
St. Jean Baptiste's day. Since then M'sieu' the tailor has been ill. I
should think Mrs. Flynn would have told you that, M'sieu'."

"H'm! Would you? Well, Mrs. Flynn has been away too--and you didn't
know that! What is the matter with Monsieur Mallard?"