"I did not see her leave, my Lady; I only learned from Ambroise
Gariepy that she had crossed the river this morning to return to St.
Valier."
"And who is Ambroise Gariepy, Fanchon? You have a wide circle of
acquaintance for a young girl, I think!" Angelique knew the dangers
of gossiping too well not to fear Fanchon's imprudences.
"Yes, my Lady," replied Fanchon with affected simplicity, "Ambroise
Gariepy keeps the Lion Vert and the ferry upon the south shore; he
brings me news and sometimes a little present from the pack of the
Basque pedlers,--he brought me this comb, my Lady!" Fanchon turned
her head to show her mistress a superb comb in her thick black hair,
and in her delight of talking of Ambroise Gariepy, the little inn of
the ferry, and the cross that leaned like a failing memory over the
grave of his former wife, Fanchon quite forgot to ease her mind
further on the subject of La Corriveau, nor did Angelique resume the
dangerous topic.
Fanchon's easy, shallow way of talking of her lover touched a
sympathetic chord in the breast of her mistress.
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