The excellent madame Boncault, in order to save my reputation,
took so little care to preserve her own, that M. de Forcalquier
was completely caught by her manoeuvre. One morning, finding
me alone, he said,
"' Madam, I am by no means satisfied with what is going on here.
Your friend is wholly devoid of shame and modesty; she has been
with us but one short fortnight, and is now the open and confessed
mistress of your cousin.'
"'Sir,' exclaimed I, trembling for what was to follow, 'you are,
you must be mistaken: the thing is impossible. Madame Boncault
is incapable--'
"'Nonsense, madam,' replied M. de Forcalquier; 'I know what I am
saying. Several things have induced me to suspect for a long
while what I now assert with perfect confidence of its truth; but
if you are still incredulous, behold this proof of guilt which I
found just now in your cousin's chamber.'
"So saying, my husband put into my hands a letter written by my
cousin evidently to some female in the chateau, whom he solicited
to admit him that evening to the usual place of rendezvous, where
he flattered himself their late misunderstanding would be cleared up.
"After having read, or, to speak more correctly, guessed at the
contents of this fatal letter, I conjured my husband to replace
it where he had found it, lest his guests should suspect him of
having dishonorably obtained possession of their secret.
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