“Well, my dear, he is a rascal and a profligate, full of impudence, sharp-witted, ignorant, a fearful liar, and nobody but myself has any power over him.  However, he has one good quality, and that is blind obedience to my orders.  He defies the stick, and he would defy the gallows if it were far enough off.  When I have to ford a river on my travels, he strips off his clothes without my telling him, and jumps in to see if I can across in safety.”

“That will do; he is just what we want under the circumstances.  I will begin by assuring you, my dear friend, as you will have me style you thus, that Madame’s honour is perfectly safe.  Follow my advice, and if the detestable widow does not take care she will be the only person put to shame.  But we want Le Duc; without him we can do nothing.  Above all we must find out how he contracted his disease, as several circumstances might throw obstacles in the way of my design.  Go to him at once and find out all particulars, and if he has told any of the servants what is the matter with him.  When you have heard what he has to say, warn him to keep the matter quiet.”

I made no objection, and without endeavouring to penetrate her design I went to Le Duc.  I found him lying on his bed by himself.  I sat down beside him with a smile on my face, and promised to have him cured if he would tell me all the circumstances of the case.

“With all my heart, sir, the matter happened like this.  The day you sent me to Soleure to get your letters, I got down at a roadside dairy to get a glass of milk.  It was served to me by a young wench who caught my fancy, and I gave her a hug; she raised no objection, and in a quarter of an hour she made me what you see.”

“Have you told anyone about it?”

“I took good care not to do so, as I should only have got laughed at.  The doctor is the only one who knows what is the matter, and he tells me the swelling will be gone down before tomorrow, and I hope I shall be able by that time to wait upon you.”

“Very good, but remember to keep your own counsel.”

I proceeded to inform my Minerva of our conversation, and she said,—­

“Tell me whether the widow could take her oath that she had spent the two hours on the sofa with you.”

“No, for she didn’t see me, and I did not say a word.”

“Very good; then sit down at your desk and write, and tell her she is a liar, as you did not leave your room at all, and that you are making the necessary enquiries in your household to find out who is the wretched person she has unwittingly contaminated.  Write at once and send off your letter directly.  In an hour and a half’s time you can write another letter; or rather you can copy what I am just going to put down.”

“My dear, I see your plan; it is an ingenious one, but I have given my word of honour to Madame to take no steps in the matter without first consulting her.”