She knew the
house, and in her heyday of youth and levity had often smuggled
herself in and out by the subterranean passage which connected the
solitary watchtower with the vaults of the Chateau. Mere Malheur
knew Dame Tremblay, who, as the Charming Josephine, had often
consulted her upon the perplexities of a heart divided among too
many lovers.
The memory of that fragrant period of her life was the freshest and
pleasantest of all Dame Tremblay's experience. It was like the odor
of new-mown hay, telling of early summer and frolics in the green
fields. She liked nothing better than to talk it all over in her
snug room with Mere Malheur, as they sat opposite one another at her
little table, each with a cup of tea in her hand, well laced with
brandy, which was a favorite weakness of them both.
Dame Tremblay was, in private, neither nice nor squeamish as to the
nature of her gossip. She and the old fortune-teller, when out of
sight of the rest of the servants, had always a dish of the choicest
scandal fresh from the city.
La Corriveau resolved to send Mere Malheur to Beaumanoir, under the
pretence of paying a visit to Dame Tremblay, in order to open a way
of communication between herself and Caroline.
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