Erik:

It was bittersweetly amusing to imagine how I might, if I wished, introduce myself at the inn—as I would if there was a real marriage between Anne and myself. I certainly wouldn't make my way back to the cottage by skirting the inn yard through the woods, as I was now doing.

No, I would instead go directly to the main house and present myself at the front desk.

"Good afternoon, sir! How may I help you?" M'sieu Hussenot would say, affably, as he came out to greet me. He might be taken aback by the mask, but I would weather that, and anyhow, this new life-like mask was working out quite well.

"Good afternoon. You are Monsieur Hussenot, are you not?" I would ask.

"Why, yes." would be his reply.

"I am very pleased to finally meet you."

"But—who are you, sir?" he would ask.

"Me? I'm your employer."

"My employer? Truly, sir?" His eyes would be round with amazement.

"Yes. If you will send one of your amiable granddaughters for Madame Touchet, I'm sure she will vouch for me. She's my wife…"

I could do that—if I wanted to amuse myself at Anne's expense. She would be shocked, and most likely, horrified as well.

As I picked my way through the underbrush, I heard a rustle, and a pale blur flashed across the path in front of me, then suddenly stopped.

"Ayesha?" I asked.

She had a live sparrow in her mouth, struggling and fluttering to be free. "Mow?" asked my little cat.

It was an error on her part. Her mouth opened enough for the bird to escape, and it flew past me. She took off after her prey, but I was in the way. She crashed right into my legs, bounced off, and gave me a look compounded equally of fury and frustration. Then she proceeded to tell me, at great length and in great detail, exactly what she thought of me for making her lose her bird.

"You shouldn't be using that sort of language. You're a lady." I told her sternly. I may not speak or understand all the nuances of Cat, but I know swearing when I hear it. "Come here, you!" I bent and picked her up. She suddenly seemed to develop three more heads, seventeen more legs, and twelve more tails, as she metamorphosed into a wriggling, clawing frenzy. "All right, all right!" I let her go.

I couldn't really blame her. Her life under the Opera House had been very safe, but very dull. This countryside had filled her with an enthusiasm and vitality I hadn't seen in her since her kitten days.

I reached the cottage, and went in by the back door, where I surprised Darius. "He's back!" he immediately called. Nadir appeared.

"Ah, Daroga! You will not believe what I learned in Lyons." I greeted him.

"Before you tell me anything, I must first tell you something of the utmost importance." he began.

"Spare me the lecture right now, if you please."

"This isn't a lecture. Madame Norbert knows. She knows you are here, and she knows who you are." Nadir said, severely.

"What? How?" I asked, stunned.

"She came by not long before lunch, and she insisted that she had to see you—or, rather, to see M'sieu Makepeace. I don't know why. She would not be put off, nor could she be prevented from entering first the cottage, then your room. At that point, she saw the mask you left on the bedside table, and all the color drained out of her face. I thought she was about to faint. Her exact words were, 'It's him, isn't it? The father. The other Erik Touchet.'"

"Oh," I said. "Oh, that is…unfortunate."

"I agree. Your reputation precedes you; she was afraid you would hurt or kill someone. She also said that she had given you power over them, although I have no idea what she meant by that."

"I do. Go on." I told him.

"She is afraid that you will want to take the boy away from her."

"Dear God, no! He would hate me forever. What did you tell her?"

"I did my best to reassure her. I told her you weren't angry, merely hurt and bewildered. I told her I was sure you wouldn't try to take the boy away, because you had seen what good care she took of him, and how she loved him. She also asked where you were, since you weren't there, and when I told her, she nearly collapsed for the second time."

"You will understand why, once I tell you what I learned there. What then?"

"I may be getting things slightly out of order, but I asked her if she were the boy's real mother. She said yes—."

"What?" I cried.

"—in the sense that she loved him and cared for him. She neither confirmed nor denied that she had borne him, saying only that she could not tell, because she had given her word. Shortly thereafter, she ran out of the cottage."

"And did what?" I asked.

"Finished her immediate work in the kitchen. Wednesday, is, if you will recall, her second afternoon off. She and the boy then went off in the dog cart to keep an appointment. That's where they are now. Now, whatever it is that you do next, I would advise you to do it very carefully and gently. In her current state, I would say she is likely to do anything—such as, take the boy and run."

"No." I shook my head. "That she will not do, Nadir. I am certain of that."

"How so?"

"Because, even if there weren't the entire kitchen house family to worry about—she owns the Grey Goose, and quite a lot of the surrounding property. It's worth about a third of a million francs, and she has almost as much again in investments and in the bank. She wouldn't run away from that."

"Is this true?" asked Darius, stupefied.

"Utterly. I had it from her lawyer." I told him. "I told him I was her husband."

"And he believed you?" he asked.

"For once, my unfortunate face did me some good. He recognized the father of Anne's son on sight, once I took off the mask. Of course, when I say that she owns it, I'm not being strictly accurate. I should say, rather, that as her husband, I own it." I said to them.

"You're certainly in a playful mood," commented Nadir. "What do you mean, you own it? Whatever she may be claiming, you say she isn't legally tied to you."

"Well, as it happens, I was wrong. I have seen the marriage lines—."

"Ah-Hah!" Nadir crowed, in triumph.

"—which got into the registry book as the result of bribery. She suborned the registrar."

Nadir did not need to know in what coin Anne had paid.

"It is down in black and white for all the world to see. She can't refute it without incriminating herself and labeling the boy a bastard. That is what she meant when she said she had given me power over them."

"Erik." said Nadir, suddenly looking grim, "what will you do with that power?"

I heaved a sigh, my mood suddenly deflated. "Not a thing. Not a single thing. How could I? I didn't earn the money. De Chagny came up with a hundred and fifty thousand francs to take the boy. It was Anne who made that money quadruple—with the help of the truffle poachers and smugglers, that is. I'll demand nothing. All I will ask is the privilege of teaching him and watching him grow up—and if she refuses me that, I'll take a house somewhere around here and watch from a short distance."

"Oh, I just remembered." Darius mumbled. "Where is it? You got a letter today." He produced it.

It was from Jules. "Thank you." I said, and broke the seal on it.

It read:

Dear Sir:

I am very glad indeed to learn that you are alive and well. I often think of my years as your assistant with pleasure, and regret that those days are behind me. Even Madame Bernard now sees the worth of your patient and reliable nature.

That meant they were badly short of money.

As far as the assignments you gave me, I have made a great deal of progress. I have not learned everything you wanted to know, but I am sending on this partial report so that you might not be kept waiting.

Mademoiselle Marie Perrault now lives in a residence for gentlewomen in Bayeux. I have not yet been able to locate Doctor Etienne Barye, but I have not stopped looking. Dead or alive, he shall be found, and found by me.

The Count and Countess De Chagny have their primary residence in Vienna at this time. However, they are known to travel a great deal, and are, at present, residing in Geneva.

They have had two children, one of whom ,their infant son, is dead. He was born in Vienna in April of last year, and died in June.

Their surviving child, a girl, is called Rosalie. She is three, and was born in the town of Le-Puy-En-Velay. She will be four on August 19th.

That…did not seem right. I had been expecting to learn that their first child had been born in late June, in a convent hospital near the France-Switzerland border. I had been assuming that Anne and Christine had been brought to bed at or near the same time, in the same place, and that the babies had been exchanged then. Perhaps the August date and place were fictional, chosen to better fit the date of their wedding, to ensure the legitimacy of the child. Or…

Then I recalled Martine Norbert, who M'sieu Bontriomphe had said had had a baby out of wedlock, and had the child adopted. Of course! Anne's child must have turned out to be a boy, and De Chagny, being the aristocrat that he was, would not have wanted the title and estate to go to one not of his blood. But Anne was willing to take my son, where Martine was not, and that was more important.

It troubled me that I did not know exactly when my son's birthday was. That was something a father should know. Perhaps I could find out from Anne, because surely we would have to meet… I went back to Jules' letter.

It proved easier than I expected to discover the details of the De Chagny finances. Drawing on my experiences as your assistant, I went to the bank purporting to represent a architect who was considering taking him on as a client. I explained that my employer wished to ascertain whether he was both financially capable and had a good history regarding payment.

Jules seemed to have some natural talent for investigation himself. Perhaps we should resume our association. It could be very useful to have another investigator about…

I can tell you with the highest degree of certainty that no such unexplained payment has been made, either in a lump sum or in installments. There is nothing mysterious in their financial records, and neither the Count nor the Countess gamble.

I remain, sir, your obedient servant,

Jules Bernard.

I had to read it over again, to be sure I was reading it correctly.

Where, then, did Anne get the hundred and fifty thousand francs?

Or, conversely, how did De Chagny pay her?

It had to have come from somewhere, but where?

And if not from De Chagny, then who?

A/N: This chapter should have gone up last night, but we had a power outage, for the second time in a week. Therefore, quite a bit of the next chapter is already written, and only waits to be put into the computer. Blame the terrible weather!

Hello folks! Well, with the next chapter piling up on me, I'll just shorten the shout-outs this time, and hope you'll forgive me.

MetalMyersJason: is it possible you skipped chapter 24 somehow? It was all Erik, and you had not commented on it. Perhaps that is why it seemed so long since my last update.

Thank you to Lucia, Bella, Sue Raven, Allegratree, HDKingsbury, Josette, Pickledishkiller, Erik for President, Nota Lone, Butterfly Guitar, and Awoman, who is now in Jordan. Keep safe.