‘I hated it, I tell you. I met Léon when he was talking in the town near us. We became friends. My husband died when the mob led by Léon set fire to his granaries … ’
‘So that was done … by Léon!’
She lifted her shoulders and gave me that smile which I was beginning to dread and fear.
‘You
I said slowly: ‘Blanchard was the man you said was a groom lent by your neighbours.’ I was remembering the incident in the stable when I thought I had seen him before. I had been right in that.
‘Of course. Léon thought I could do good work at the château. Besides, it was a home for me and your husband’s son. I wonder you never saw the likeness. I could see it. Every day he reminded me of Charles. But it did not occur to you, did it, dear innocent sister.’
‘Remember, you are not my sister. Lisette, how could you lie to us … all those years? How could you pretend?’
She wrinkled her brows as though trying to think. Then she said: ‘I don’t know. I was so fond of you sometimes. Then I would think of all you had and that we were sisters and how unfair it was. Then I hated you. Then I forgot it and was fond of you again. It doesn’t matter now.’
‘And you knew that Armand was in the Bastille?’
‘Léon did not tell me everything … only what it was necessary for me to know. But I guessed and I wasn’t sorry. Armand deserved what he got. He always looked down on me—he was always the high and mighty Vicomte. It is amusing to think of him in prison.’
‘How can you talk like that!’
‘Easily,’ said Lisette. ‘If you had been humiliated as I have been you would be the same.’
‘And Léon Blanchard told you he was going to be in the town today?’
She nodded. ‘I wanted you to see and hear him. I wanted you to know how things were. I have been longing to tell you for so long. I wanted you to know that I was your sister.’
Tante Berthe had come into the room. She said: ‘There is nothing much left in the kitchens. I have made a little soup. What is the matter?’
I said: ‘We have been into town. Léon Blanchard was there preaching revolution. They will be coming to the château.’
Tante Berthe turned pale.
Lisette said: ‘Lottie has been telling me a tale. She says I am not the Comte’s daughter. As if I did not always know I was. She says the Comte did not know me until I was three or four years old. It isn’t true, is it? It isn’t true?’
Tante Berthe looked steadily at Lisette. She said: ‘The Comte took you in because he was a good and kind gentleman. You and I owe him much. But he was not your father. Your father was the son of a tradesman and he worked in his father’s shop. Your mother told me this before you were born when I came to Paris to try to persuade her to return home. She couldn’t, of course, as she was to have a child. I helped her through her confinement. She insisted on keeping you and this she tried to do through her needlework. She couldn’t make ends meet and started having gentlemen friends who helped her to pay the rent and feed her child.’
‘You mean she was a … prostitute!’
‘No, no,’ cried Tante Berthe fiercely. ‘She only had friends whom she liked … and they helped her because they wanted to. The Comte was one of them. When she knew herself to be dying she asked me to come to her. She wanted me to take care of you. The Comte called when I was there. He was concerned about your mother’s health and he talked to me about the future. He told me that when he had visited her he had discovered that she had a little girl hidden away. He was touched by this. He thought your mother a brave woman. When she died he offered me the post of housekeeper to the château and allowed me to bring you with me.’
‘Lies!’ cried Lisette. ‘All lies!’
‘It’s the truth,’ said Tante Berthe. ‘I swear it in the name of the Virgin.’
Lisette looked as though she were going to burst into tears. I knew that the dream of a lifetime was crumbling about her.
She went on shouting: ‘It is lies … All lies.’
The door opened and Sophie came in.
‘What’s the matter?’ she said. ‘I could hear the shouting in Armand’s room.’
‘Sophie,’ I said, ‘we are in acute danger. The mob will come to the château at dusk. Léon Blanchard is bringing them.’
‘Léon … !’
I said gently: ‘What Dickon suspected was true. Léon Blanchard was not a real tutor. He was here to spy for the Orléanists. The Duc de Soissonson was one of them, too. We have just heard him inciting the mob to march on the château. When he comes with them you will see for yourself.’
‘Léon?’ she repeated in a dazed way.
‘Oh Sophie,’ I said. ‘There has been such deceit. Terrible things are happening everywhere in France. How can we know who is with us and who against us?’
‘I don’t believe that Léon … ’ she began and Lisette began to laugh hysterically.
