CHAPTER VII.

No satisfactory result attended the inquiries made at Munich save indeed

this certainty,--the certificates attesting the decease of some person

calling herself Louise Duval had not been forged. They were indubitably

genuine. A lady bearing that name had arrived at one of the principal

hotels late in the evening, and had there taken handsome rooms. She was

attended by no servant, but accompanied by a gentleman, who, however,

left the hotel as soon as he had seen her lodged to her satisfaction.

The books of the hotel still retained the entry of her name,--Madame

Duval, _Francaise rentiere_. On comparing the handwriting of this entry

with the letter from Richard King's first wife, Graham found it to

differ; but then it was not certain, though probable, that the entry had

been written by the alleged Madame Duval herself. She was visited the

next day by the same gentleman who had accompanied her on arriving. He

dined and spent the evening with her. But no one at the hotel could

remember what was the gentleman's name, nor even if he were announced by

any name. He never called again. Two days afterwards, Madame Duval was

taken ill; a doctor was sent for, and attended her till her death. This

doctor was easily found. He remembered the case perfectly,--congestion

of the lungs, apparently caused by cold caught on her journey. Fatal

symptoms rapidly manifested themselves, and she died on the third day

from the seizure. She was a young and handsome woman. He had asked her

during her short illness if he should not write to her friends; if there

were no one she would wish to be sent for. She replied that there was

only one friend, to whom she had already written, and who would arrive in

a day or two; and on inquiring, it appeared that she had written such a

letter, and taken it herself to the post on the morning of the day she

was taken ill.

She had in her purse not a large sum, but money enough to cover all her

expenses, including those of her funeral, which, according to the law in

force at the place, followed very quickly on her decease. The arrival of

the friend to whom she had written being expected, her effects were, in

the meanwhile, sealed up. The day after her death a letter arrived for

her, which was opened. It was evidently written by a man, and apparently

by a lover. It expressed an impassioned regret that the writer was

unavoidably prevented returning to Munich so soon as he had hoped, but

trusted to see his dear _bouton de rose_ in the course of the following

week; it was only signed Achille, and gave no address. Two or three days

after, a lady, also young and handsome, arrived at the hotel, and

inquired for Madame Duval. She was greatly shocked at hearing of her

decease. When sufficiently recovered to bear being questioned as to

Madame Duval's relations and position, she appeared confused; said, after

much pressing, that she was no relation to the deceased; that she

believed Madame Duval had no relations with whom she was on friendly

terms,--at least she had never heard her speak of any; and that her own

acquaintance with the deceased, though cordial, was very recent. She

could or would not give any clew to the writer of the letter signed

Achille, and she herself quitted Munich that evening, leaving the

impression that Madame Duval had been one of those ladies who, in

adopting a course of life at variance with conventional regulations,

are repudiated by their relations, and probably drop even their rightful

names.

Achille never appeared; but a few days after, a lawyer at Munich received

a letter from another at Vienna, requesting, in compliance with a

client's instructions, the formal certificates of Louise Duval's death.

These were sent as directed, and nothing more about the ill-fated woman

was heard of. After the expiration of the time required by law, the

seals were removed from the effects, which consisted of two _malles_ and

a dressing-case. But they only contained the articles appertaining to a

lady's wardrobe or toilet,--no letters, not even another note from

Achille,--no clew, in short, to the family or antecedents of the

deceased. What then had become of these effects, no one at the hotel

could give a clear or satisfactory account. It was said by the mistress

of the hotel, rather sullenly, that they had, she supposed, been sold by

her predecessor, and by order of the authorities, for the benefit of the

poor.

If the lady who had represented herself as Louise Duval's acquaintance

had given her own name, which doubtless she did, no one recollected it.

It was not entered in the books of the hotel, for she had not lodged

there; nor did it appear that she had allowed time for formal examination

by the civil authorities. In fact, it was clear that poor Louise Duval

had been considered as an adventuress by the hotel-keeper and the medical

attendant at Munich; and her death had excited so little interest, that

it was strange that even so many particulars respecting it could be

gleaned.

After a prolonged but fruitless stay at Munich, Graham and M. Renard

repaired to Vienna; there, at least, Madame Marigny had given an address,

and there she might be heard of.

At Vienna, however, no research availed to discover a trace of any such

person; and in despair Graham returned to England in the January of 1870,

and left the further prosecution of his inquiries to M. Renard, who,

though obliged to transfer himself to Paris for a time, promised that he

would leave no stone unturned for the discovery of Madame Marigny; and

Graham trusted to that assurance when M. Renard, rejecting half of the

large gratuity offered him, added, "Je suis Francais; this with me has

ceased to be an affair of money; it has become an affair that involves my

_amour propre_."

The Parisians — Volume 06 · 第 7 / 8 章