The carrier then took them to Riom.  When they got there, Baulieu got rid of him by giving a false meeting-place for their departure; left in the direction of the abbey of Lavoine, and reached the village of Descoutoux, in the mountains, between Lavoine and Thiers.  The Marchioness de Bouille had a chateau there where she occasionally spent some time.

The child was nursed at Descoutoux by Gabrielle Moini, who was paid a month in advance; but she only kept it a week or so, because they refused to tell her the father and mother and to refer her to a place where she might send reports of her charge.  This woman having made these reasons public, no nurse could be found to take charge of the child, which was removed from the village of Descoutoux.  The persons who removed it took the highroad to Burgundy, crossing a densely wooded country, and here they lost their way.

The above particulars were subsequently proved by the nurses, the carrier, and others who made legal depositions.  They are stated at length here, as they proved very important in the great lawsuit.  The compilers of the case, into which we search for information, have however omitted to tell us how the absence of the major-domo was accounted for at the castle; probably the far-sighted marquis had got an excuse ready.

The countess’s state of drowsiness continued till daybreak.  She woke bathed in blood, completely exhausted, but yet with a sensation of comfort which convinced her that she had been delivered from her burden.  Her first words were about her child; she wished to see it, kiss it; she asked where it was.  The midwife coolly told her, whilst the girls who were by were filled with amazement at her audacity, that she had not been confined at all.  The countess maintained the contrary, and as she grew very excited, the midwife strove to calm her, assuring her that in any case her delivery could not be long protracted, and that, judging from all the indications of the night, she would give birth to a boy.  This promise comforted the count and the countess dowager, but failed to satisfy the countess, who insisted that a child had been born.

The same day a scullery-maid met a woman going to the water’s edge in the castle moat, with a parcel in her arms.  She recognised the midwife, and asked what she was carrying and where she was going so early.  The latter replied that she was very inquisitive, and that it was nothing at all; but the girl, laughingly pretending to be angry at this answer, pulled open one of the ends of the parcel before the midwife had time to stop her, and exposed to view some linen soaked in blood.

“Madame has been confined, then?” she said to the matron.

“No,” replied she briskly, “she has not.”

The girl was unconvinced, and said, “How do you mean that she has not, when madame the marchioness, who was there, says she has?” The matron in great confusion replied, “She must have a very long tongue, if she said so.”