"I trust so, Monseigneur. I had frequently to deal with old mortgages and contracts in my late employment."
"Very well then; come with me."
The Marquis led Roger upstairs to a sparsely-furnished room on the third floor, near his own. Against one wall there was a huge, old, iron-bound chest with a great cumbersome triple lock. Walking straight over to it the Marquis unlocked it and, with his strong, capable hands, lifted the heavy lid. It was full to the brim with hundreds of neatly tied rolls of parchment, the majority of which were yellowed with age.
"These papers," he said, with a swift glance at Roger, "all have some bearing on a large estate in Poitou, named the Domains de St. Hilaire. 'Tis my contention that through the marriage of my great-aunt this property should belong to me; but my claim is denied by the de Fontenay family, who still retain possession of it. The estate is valued at a million and a half livres; so 'tis worth some trouble to obtain sufficient data on which to base an action for its recovery. It will take many months, perhaps a year or more, of industrious application to extract all that may be of value from these documents, and I did not wish them to pass out of my possession for so long a period. Hence my idea of asking Maitre Leger to recommend some suitable person to enter my employ and go through them here. This is your task. If you can produce enough evidence for me to establish my claim you will not find me ungrateful."
"I thank you, Monseigneur," Roger replied. "If the evidence is there you may rest assured that I will find it for you."
For the first time the Marquis looked at him as though he was a human being, and not merely an automaton with some legal training who might, or might not, serve his purpose.
"You show great self-confidence for one so young," he said, his beautifully modelled mouth breaking into a faint smile. "I think that, perhaps, Maitre Leger was right to send you to me, rather than some dried-up old fogey. Shortly I am returning to Paris. I have no idea when I shall visit Becherel again; but wherever I may be I do not wish to be bothered with this matter until your work is completed. In the meantime this room is yours to work in and my major-domo will pay you your salary and furnish you with anything you may require to facilitate your task."
"Am I—er—to continue to take my meals alone?" Roger hazarded.
The Marquis's eyebrows lifted. "Why, yes, I suppose so. Surely you would not prefer to eat them in the kitchen?
"Oh, no, Monseigneur," said Roger hastily. "It was only—well, that I fear I shall find such a life a little lonely."
Again the Marquis regarded him with human interest. He was not used to his employees raising the question of their well-being with him and found himself, for once, rather at a loss.
"You could make a friend of the Cure in the village," he suggested after a moment, "then there is Aldegonde, and Chenou, my chief huntsman. The last is an excellent fellow. Are you town or country bred?"
"I was born in the country, and have lived in it most of my life."
"In that case you can ride, then. I am no votary of the chase, myself, and the coverts here are always overthick with game. Tell Chenou that I have given you permission to ride the horses in the stables, and to take out the falcons or go coursing when you wish."
"I am indeed grateful, Monseigneur. And in the long winter evenings? I am very fond of reading, particularly history. Would it be possible for me to borrow a few books?"
"Eh! Yes, why not. I prefer that my books should not be removed from the library; but no one ever uses the room when I am not here. In my absence you may read there if you like."
The Marquis was a man of quick perceptions and it had already struck him that Roger was a young man much above the run of the ordinary lawyer's clerk; otherwise it would never have occurred to him to make such concessions. But now his mind passed to another matter with which he was concerned and, as Roger thanked him, he murmured: "That will be all, then. The sooner you get down to work the better. Report to me when you have finished." Then, with a brief nod, he walked out of the room.
That evening Roger began to list the documents in the chest and, anxious as he was to see Athenais, he felt that he would be wise not to attempt to do so until her father was well out of the way; so for the next few days he continued his solitary existence and concentrated on his task.
When Sunday came the footman who looked after his simple requirements told him that Mass would be celebrated in the chapel of the chateau at eleven o'clock and informed him how to get there. Having donned his best suit and dressed with care he made his way across the great hall downstairs to the west wing, in which the chapel was situated. On learning that he was not, after all, to act as a private secretary to the Marquis, he had been greatly disappointed, but that did not affect his happiness at having become a permanent resident under the same roof as Athenais and now, at last, he would be able to gaze his fill at her once more.
On his reaching the chapel, Aldegonde beckoned him to a place between himself and a tall, black-bearded man, whom, in a whisper, he introduced as Monsieur Chenou. They were occupying the third pew; the two in front remained empty, while those behind were rapidly filling up with two or three score of other servants, all of whom took their places in order of rank, the back pews being filled with scullions and laundry girls. The men occupied the right-hand side of the aisle, the women the left. When everyone had taken their places the music began, then the Marquis came in with Athenais on his arm. At the top of the aisle they separated, stepping into the front pews, and Madame Marie-Ang6, who had followed them in, took her place in the second pew, behind Athenais.
From his position Roger was able to look at his divinity's cameolike profile from a slightly sideways angle, and he watched her all through the service, only wishing that it had been longer. On coming in she had not noticed him but as she came out on her father's arm her glance met his. It showed surprise, then a little frown that he had no means of interpreting, but which worried him all through the rest of the day.
As he left the chapel, however, his thoughts were temporarily diverted by Chenou asking him if he would like to see round the stables. Although he was in no mood to show as much interest as he normally would have done he accepted politely, as it was the first kind word that had been addressed to him since his interview with the Marquis three days previously.
The chief huntsman was a handsome-looking man in his late thirties, with clear grey eyes and a fine black beard and moustachios. He told Roger that he had formerly been a Sergeant in the Breton Regiment of Dragoons and that he controlled all the outside staff of the chateau while Monsieur Aldegonde was responsible for running the inside of it. He lamented the fact that his master was not the least interested in venery, but was delighted to hear that Roger had received permission to ride and the freedom of the chases. That afternoon they went out for a ride together and Chenou became even more well-disposed when he found that Roger was a competent horseman, with, for a young lawyer, a quite remarkable knowledge of hunting, shooting and fishing.
This new and promising friendship did something to take his mind off Athenais's unexpected coldness, but he was still worrying about it next morning when he received a visitor.
After an abrupt knock, a gaunt, stooping priest with thin, greying hair, a high forehead and piercing black eyes, came with a catlike step into his room.
Roger had seen him in the chapel the previous day assisting the Cure in the Celebration of the mass, and guessed that he must be the Marquis's secretary.