Black Gold by Charles O'Brien

ours.”
    Anne eagerly opened the envelope. Besides brief news from the comtesse, it contained a separate sheet of bravely written lines from Michou, a young woman, deaf from birth and uneducated, but gifted with a remarkable painter’s eye. Anne had befriended her, and introduced her into Abbé de l’Épée’s institute for the deaf. Anne read aloud:
    I learn read write a little. I live by students at school. They are kind helpful. I miss you. I send gift. I love you. Michou.
    Anne was too moved to speak. She looked up at Paul. He was also touched, his eyes moist.
    He reached again into his valise. “Since you left, Michou’s been painting diligently and did this for you. I had it encased.” He handed Anne an oval silver case.
    It opened to a miniature self-portrait of Michou as Anne remembered her from their last meal together. In a soft yellow silk dress, she sat erect, her green eyes alert, gazing at her friend. Anne shared the portrait with Paul.
    â€œA remarkable likeness,” he said. “She speaks eloquently with her eyes.”
    â€œShe’s teaching sign language to Aunt Marie.” Anne handed him the comtesse’s letter, adding, “She admits it’s about time she learned.”
    He scanned the single sheet, then gazed fondly at Anne. “Perhaps you will teach me.”
    Anne nodded. “I’d like that.” She imagined him in voiceless conversation with her. It seemed more intimate than spoken words. After all, the language of love was gesture. Signing might help overcome his reticence in matters of the heart.
    â€œThen we shall begin my instruction when our business in Bath is finished.” He carefully folded the letter and returned it to her.
    â€œAnd what is that business, if I may ask?”
    â€œThe capture of Captain Fitzroy, who lives here. Georges and I must bring him back to France for a crime he has committed. You have met him by now and might be familiar with his character.”
    â€œI do know him. In fact, he is among those whom I suspect caused the death of my predecessor, Mary Campbell.” Anne then told him what she had learned about that incident and the captain’s possible part in it.
    â€œThat sounds like something Georges and I must look into. The captain’s abuse of women would seem to follow a pattern.”
    â€œSir Harry surely suspects you are a French police officer in pursuit of the captain.”
    Paul’s eyebrows shot up. “How would he have discovered that?”
    â€œWhen Sir Harry learned I was coming to tutor Charlie, he asked Harriet about me. She’s a dear friend but easily led. I fear he has charmed her. She told him I had worked with you last year in Paris to clear Antoine’s name. At the time no one knew you were coming to Bath, but Sir Harry had heard about Captain Fitzroy and the baron’s goddaughter. When you arrived, he was sure to suspect who you are and why you’ve come.”
    â€œHm, I see.” Paul leaned forward and stared into the fireplace, hands clasped. “Fitzroy must also know. So much for the element of surprise.”
    â€œI’ve heard his version of the story. Tell me what really happened,” she asked. “I sense in him a deceitful character.”
    Paul stirred the fire, then turned toward her. “Back in January, Fitzroy brutally beat and raped Sylvie de Chanteclerc, my cousin and Aunt Marie’s goddaughter as well. Since then I have been pursuing him. This is the mysterious case I mentioned in my letters to you. Sylvie is depressed and has recently attempted suicide.”
    â€œHow horrible! Poor woman! The captain deserves to be punished. But how will you bring him back to France?”
    â€œI don’t know yet. I’ve come to Combe Park to find a way.” Paul paused for a moment. A puzzled expression crept over his face. “Why has Sir Harry been so welcoming? Surely he wants more from me than a