"In fact, no," said he; "we will see nothing till the agent arrives. But
I must have some information concerning the Count and Countess de
Tremorel."
The worthy mayor again triumphed.
"Oh, I can give it to you," answered he quickly, "better than anybody.
Ever since their advent here, I may say, I have been one of their best
friends. Ah, sir, what charming people! excellent, and affable, and
devoted--"
And at the remembrance of all his friends' good qualities, M. Courtois
choked in his utterance.
"The Count de Tremorel," he resumed, "was a man of thirty-four years,
handsome, witty to the tips of his nails. He had sometimes, however,
periods of melancholy, during which he did not wish to see anybody; but
he was ordinarily so affable, so polite, so obliging; he knew so well
how to be noble without haughtiness, that everybody here esteemed and
loved him."
"And the countess?" asked the judge of instruction.
"An angel, Monsieur, an angel on earth! Poor lady! You will soon see her
remains, and surely you would not guess that she has been the queen of
the country, by reason of her beauty."
"Were they rich?"
"Yes; they must have had, together, more than a hundred thousand francs
income--oh, yes, much more; for within five or six months the count, who
had not the bucolic tastes of poor Sauvresy, sold some lands to buy
consols."
"Have they been married long?"