CHAPTER XIX.
Noel had promised to use every effort, to attempt even the impossible,to obtain Albert's release. He in fact did interview the PublicProsecutor and some members of the bar, but managed to be repulsedeverywhere. At four o'clock, he called at the Count de Commarin's house,to inform his father of the ill success of his efforts.
"The Count has gone out," said Denis; "but if you will take the troubleto wait----"
"I will wait," answered Noel.
"Then," replied the valet, "will you please follow me? I have thecount's orders to show you into his private room."
This confidence gave Noel an idea of his new power. He was at home,henceforth, in that magnificent house, he was the master, the heir! Hisglance, which wandered over the entire room, noticed the genealogicaltree, hanging on the wall. He approached it, and read.
It was like a page, and one of the most illustrious, taken from thegolden book of French nobility. Every name which has a place in ourhistory was there. The Commarins had mingled their blood with all thegreat families; two of them had even married daughters of royalty. Awarm glow of pride filled the advocate's heart, his pulse beat quicker,he raised his head haughtily, as he murmured, "Viscount de Commarin!"
The door opened. He turned, and saw the count entering. As Noel wasabout to bow respectfully, he was petrified by the look of hatred,anger, and contempt on his father's face.
A shiver ran through his veins; his teeth chattered; he felt that he waslost.
"Wretch!" cried the count.
And, dreading his own violence, the old nobleman threw his cane into acorner. He was unwilling to strike his son; he considered him unworthyof being struck by his hand. Then there was a moment of mortal silence,which seemed to both of them a century.
At the same time their minds were filled with thoughts, which wouldrequire a volume to transcribe.
Noel had the courage to speak first.
"Sir," he began.
"Silence!" exclaimed the count hoarsely; "be silent! Can it be, heavenforgive me! that you are my son? Alas, I cannot doubt it now! Wretch!you knew well that you were Madame Gerdy's son. Infamous villain! younot only committed this murder, but you did everything to cause aninnocent man to be charged with your crime! Parricide! you have alsokilled your mother."
The advocate attempted to stammer forth a protest.
"You killed her," continued the count with increased energy, "if notby poison, at least by your crime. I understand all now; she was notdelirious this morning. But you know as well as I do what she wassaying. You were listening, and, if you dared to enter at that momentwhen one word more would have betrayed you, it was because you hadcalculated the effect of your presence. It was to you that she addressedher last word, 'Assassin!'"
Little by little, Noel had retired to the end of the room, and he stoodleaning against the wall, his head thrown back, his hair on end, hislook haggard. A convulsive trembling shook his frame. His face betrayeda terror most horrible to see, the terror of the criminal found out.
"I know all, you see," continued the count; "and I am not alone in myknowledge. At this moment, a warrant of arrest is issued against you."
A cry of rage like a hollow rattle burst from the advocate's breast. Hislips, which were hanging through terror, now grew firm. Overwhelmed inthe very midst of his triumph, he struggled against this fright. He drewhimself up with a look of defiance.
M. de Commarin, without seeming to pay any attention to Noel, approachedhis writing table, and opened a drawer.
"My duty," said he, "would be to leave you to the executioner who awaitsyou; but I remember that I have the misfortune to be your father. Sitdown; write and sign a confession of your crime. You will then findfire-arms in this drawer. May heaven forgive you!"
The old nobleman moved towards the door. Noel with a sign stopped him,and drawing at the same time a revolver from his pocket, he said: "Yourfire-arms are needless, sir; my precautions, as you see, are alreadytaken; they will never catch me alive. Only----"
"Only?" repeated the count harshly.
"I must tell you, sir," continued the advocate coldly, "that I do notchoose to kill myself--at least, not at present."
"Ah!" cried M. de Commarin in disgust, "you are a coward!"
"No, sir, not a coward; but I will not kill myself until I am sure thatevery opening is closed against me, that I cannot save myself."
"Miserable wretch!" said the count, threateningly, "must I then do itmyself?"
He moved towards the drawer, but Noel closed it with a kick.
"Listen to me, sir," said he, in that hoarse, quick tone, which men usein moments of imminent danger, "do not let us waste in vain words thefew moments' respite left me. I have committed a crime, it is true, andI do not attempt to justify it; but who laid the foundation of it, ifnot yourself? Now, you do me the favor of offering me a pistol. Thanks.I must decline it. This generosity is not through any regard for me.You only wish to avoid the scandal of my trial, and the disgrace whichcannot fail to reflect upon your name."
The count was about to reply.
"Permit me," interrupted Noel imperiously. "I do not choose to killmyself; I wish to save my life, if possible. Supply me with the meansof escape; and I promise you that I will sooner die than be captured. Isay, supply me with means, for I have not twenty francs in the world.My last thousand franc note was nearly all gone the day when--youunderstand me. There isn't sufficient money at home to give my mother adecent burial. Therefore, I say, give me some money."
"Never!"
"Then I will deliver myself up to justice, and you will see what willhappen to the name you hold so dear!"
The count, mad with rage, rushed to his table for a pistol. Noel placedhimself before him.
"Oh, do not let us have any struggle," said he coldly; "I am thestrongest."
M. de Commarin recoiled. By thus speaking of the trial, of the scandaland of the disgrace, the advocate had made an impression upon him.
For a moment hesitating between love for his name and his burning desireto see this wretch punished, the old nobleman stood undecided.
Finally his feeling for his rank triumphed.
"Let us end this," he said in a tremulous voice, filled with the utmostcontempt; "let us end this disgraceful scene. What do you demand of me?"
"I have already told you, money, all that you have here. But make upyour mind quickly."
On the previous Saturday the count had withdrawn from his bankers thesum he had destined for fitting up the apartments of him whom he thoughtwas his legitimate child.
"I have eighty thousand francs here," he replied.
"That's very little," said the advocate; "but give them to me. I willtell you though that I had counted on you for five hundred thousandfrancs. If I succeed in escaping my pursuers, you must hold at mydisposal the balance, four hundred and twenty thousand francs. Will youpledge yourself to give them to me at the first demand? I will find somemeans of sending for them, without any risk to myself. At that price,you need never fear hearing of me again."
By way of reply, the count opened a little iron chest imbedded in thewall, and took out a roll of bank notes, which he threw at Noel's feet.
An angry look flashed in the advocate's eyes, as he took one steptowards his father.
"Oh! take care!" he said threateningly; "people who, like me, havenothing to lose are dangerous. I can yet give myself up, and----"
He stooped down, however, and picked up the notes.
"Will you give me your word," he continued, "to let me have the restwhenever I ask for them?"
"Yes."
"Then I am going. Do not fear, I will be faithful to our compact, theyshall not take me alive. Adieu, my father! in all this you are the truecriminal, but you alone will go unpunished. Ah, heaven is not just. Icurse you!"
When, an hour later, the servants entered the count's room, they foundhim stretched on the floor with his face against the carpet, and showingscarcely a sign of life.
O
n leaving the Commarin house, Noel staggered up the Rue del'Universite.
It seemed to him that the pavement oscillated beneath his feet, and thateverything about him was turning round. His mouth was parched, his eyeswere burning, and every now and then a sudden fit of sickness overcamehim.
But, at the same time, strange to relate, he felt an incredible relief,almost delight. It was ended then, all was over; the game was lost. Nomore anguish now, no more useless fright and foolish terrors, no moredissembling, no more struggles. Henceforth he had nothing more to fear.His horrible part being played to the bitter end, he could now lay asidehis mask and breathe freely.
An irresistible weariness succeeded the desperate energy which, in thepresence of the count, had sustained his impudent arrogance. All thesprings of his organization, stretched for more than a week past farbeyond their ordinary limits, now relaxed and gave way. The fever whichfor the last few days had kept him up failed him now; and, with theweariness, he felt an imperative need of rest. He experienced a greatvoid, an utter indifference for everything.
His insensibility bore a striking resemblance to that felt by personsafflicted with sea-sickness, who care for nothing, whom no sensationsare capable of moving, who have neither strength nor courage to think,and who could not be aroused from their lethargy by the presence of anygreat danger, not even of death itself.
Had any one come to him then he would never have thought of resisting,nor of defending himself; he would not have taken a step to hidehimself, to fly, to save his head.
For a moment he had serious thoughts of giving himself up, in order tosecure peace, to gain quiet, to free himself from the anxiety about hissafety.
But he struggled against this dull stupor, and at last the reactioncame, shaking off this weakness of mind and body.
The consciousness of his position, and of his danger, returned to him.He foresaw, with horror, the scaffold, as one sees the depth of theabyss by the lightning flashes.
"I must save my life," he thought; "but how?"
That mortal terror which deprives the assassin of even ordinary commonsense seized him. He looked eagerly about him, and thought he noticedthree or four passers-by look at him curiously. His terror increased.
He began running in the direction of the Latin quarter without purpose,without aim, running for the sake of running, to get away, like Crime,as represented in paintings, fleeing under the lashes of the Furies.
He very soon stopped, however, for it occurred to him that thisextraordinary behaviour would attract attention.
It seemed to him that everything in him betokened the murderer; hethought he read contempt and horror upon every face, and suspicion inevery eye.
He walked along, instinctively repeating to himself: "I must dosomething."
But he was so agitated that he was incapable of thinking or of planninganything.
When he still hesitated to commit the crime, he had said to himself; "Imay be discovered." And with that possibility in view, he had perfecteda plan which should put him beyond all fear of pursuit. He would dothis and that; he would have recourse to this ruse, he would take thatprecaution. Useless forethought! Now, nothing he had imagined seemedfeasible. The police were seeking him, and he could think of no place inthe whole world where he would feel perfectly safe.
He was near the Odeon theatre, when a thought quicker than a flash oflightning lit up the darkness of his brain.
It occurred to him that as the police were doubtless already in pursuitof him, his description would soon be known to everyone, his whitecravat and well trimmed whiskers would betray him as surely as though hecarried a placard stating who he was.
Seeing a barber's shop, he hurried to the door; but, when on the pointof turning the handle, he grew frightened.
The barber might think it strange that he wanted his whiskers shavedoff, and supposing he should question him!
He passed on.
He soon saw another barber's shop, but the same fears as before againprevented his entering.
Gradually night had fallen, and, with the darkness, Noel seemed torecover his confidence and boldness.
After this great shipwreck in port, hope rose to the surface. Why shouldhe not save himself? There had been many just such cases. He could go toa foreign country, change his name, begin his life over again, become anew man entirely. He had money; and that was the main thing.
And, besides, as soon as his eighty thousand francs were spent, he hadthe certainty of receiving, on his first request, five or six times asmuch more.
He was already thinking of the disguise he should assume, and of thefrontier to which he should proceed, when the recollection of Juliettepierced his heart like a red hot iron.
Was he going to leave without her, going away with the certainty ofnever seeing her again? What! he would fly, pursued by all the policeof the civilized world, tracked like a wild beast, and she would remainpeaceably in Paris? Was it possible? For whom then had he committed thiscrime? For her. Who would have reaped the benefits of it? She. Was itnot just, then, that she should bear her share of the punishment?
"She does not love me," thought the advocate bitterly, "she never lovedme. She would be delighted to be forever free of me. She will not regretme, for I am no longer necessary to her. An empty coffer is a uselesspiece of furniture. Juliette is prudent; she has managed to save anice little fortune. Grown rich at my expense, she will take some otherlover. She will forget me, she will live happily, while I--And I wasabout to go away without her!"
The voice of prudence cried out to him: "Unhappy man! to drag a womanalong with you, and a pretty woman too, is but to stupidly attractattention upon you, to render flight impossible, to give yourself uplike a fool."
"What of that?" replied passion. "We will be saved or we will perishtogether. If she does not love me, I love her; I must have her! She willcome, otherwise--"
But how to see Juliette, to speak with her, to persuade her. To go toher house, was a great risk for him to run. The police were perhapsthere already.
"No," thought Noel; "no one knows that she is my mistress. It willnot be found out for two or three days and, besides, it would be moredangerous still to write."
He took a cab not far from the Carrefour de l'Observatoire, and in alow tone told the driver the number of the house in the Rue de Provence,which had proved so fatal to him. Stretched on the cushions of the cab,lulled by its monotonous jolts, Noel gave no thought to the future, hedid not even think over what he should say to Juliette. No. He passedinvoluntarily in review the events which had brought on and hastened thecatastrophe, like a man on the point of death, reviews the tragedy orthe comedy of his life.
Just one month before, ruined, at the end of his expedients andabsolutely without resources, he had determined, cost what it might,to procure money, so as to be able to continue to keep Madame Juliette,when chance placed in his hands Count de Commarin's correspondence.Not only the letters read to old Tabaret, and shown to Albert, but alsothose, which, written by the count when he believed the substitution anaccomplished fact, plainly established it.
The reading of these gave him an hour of mad delight.
He believed himself the legitimate son; but his mother soon undeceivedhim, told him the truth, proved to him by several letters she hadreceived from Widow Lerouge, called on Claudine to bear witness to it,and demonstrated it to him by the scar he bore.
But a falling man never selects the branch he tries to save himself by.Noel resolved to make use of the letters all the same.
He attempted to induce his mother to leave the count in his ignorance,so that he might thus blackmail him. But Madame Gerdy spurned theproposition with horror.
Then the advocate made a confession of all his follies, laid bare hisfinancial condition, showed himself in his true light, sunk in debt; andhe finally begged his mother to have recourse to M. de Commarin.
This also she refused, and prayers and threats availed nothing againsther resolution. For a fortnight, there was a terrib
le struggle betweenmother and son, in which the advocate was conquered.
It was then that the idea of murdering Claudine occurred to him.
The unhappy woman had not been more frank with Madame Gerdy thanwith others, so that Noel really thought her a widow. Therefore, hertestimony suppressed, who else stood in his way?
Madame Gerdy, and perhaps the count. He feared them but little. IfMadame Gerdy spoke, he could always reply: "After stealing my name foryour son, you will do everything in the world to enable him to keep it."But how to do away with Claudine without danger to himself?
After long reflection, the advocate thought of a diabolical stratagem.
He burnt all the count's letters establishing the substitution, and hepreserved only those which made it probable.
These last he went and showed to Albert, feeling sure, that, shouldjustice ever discover the reason of Claudine's death, it would naturallysuspect he who appeared to have most interest in it.
Not that he really wished Albert to be suspected of the crime, it wassimply a precaution. He thought that he could so arrange mattersthat the police would waste their time in the pursuit of an imaginarycriminal.
Nor did he think of ousting the Viscount de Commarin and putting himselfin his place. His plan was simply this; the crime once committed,he would wait; things would take their own course, there would benegotiations, and ultimately he would compromise the matter at the priceof a fortune.
He felt sure of his mother's silence, should she ever suspect him guiltyof the assassination.
His plan settled, he decided to strike the fatal blow on the ShroveTuesday.
To neglect no precaution, he, that very same evening, took Juliette tothe theatre, and afterwards to the masked ball at the opera. In casethings went against him, he thus secured an unanswerable _alibi_.
The loss of his overcoat only troubled him for a moment. On reflection,he reassured himself, saying: "Pshaw! who will ever know?"
Everything had resulted in accordance with his calculations; it was, inhis opinion, a matter of patience.
But when Madame Gerdy read the account of the murder, the unhappy womandivined her son's work, and, in the first paroxysms of her grief, shedeclared that she would denounce him.
He was terrified. A frightful delirium had taken possession of hismother. One word from her might destroy him. Putting a bold face on it,however, he acted at once and staked his all.
To put the police on Albert's track was to guarantee his own safety,to insure to himself, in the event of a probable success, Count deCommarin's name and fortune.
Circumstances, as well as his own terror, increased his boldness and hisingenuity.
Old Tabaret's visit occurred just at the right moment.
Noel knew of his connection with the police, and guessed that the oldfellow would make a most valuable confidant.
So long as Madame Gerdy lived, Noel trembled. In her delirium shemight betray him at any moment. But when she had breathed her last, hebelieved himself safe. He thought it all over, he could see no furtherobstacle in his way; he was sure he had triumphed.
And now all was discovered, just as he was about to reach the goal ofhis ambition. But how? By whom? What fatality had resuscitated a secretwhich he had believed buried with Madame Gerdy?
But where is the use, when one is at the bottom of an abyss, of knowingwhich stone gave way, or of asking down what side one fell?
The cab stopped in the Rue de Provence. Noel leaned out of the door, hiseyes exploring the neighbourhood and throwing a searching glance intothe depths of the hall of the house. Seeing no one, he paid the farethrough the front window, before getting out of the cab, and, crossingthe pavement with a bound, he rushed up stairs.
Charlotte, at sight of him, gave a shout of joy.
"At last it is you, sir!" she cried. "Ah, madame has been expecting youwith the greatest impatience! She has been very anxious."
Juliette expecting him! Juliette anxious!
The advocate did not stop to ask questions. On reaching this spot,he seemed suddenly to recover all his composure. He understood hisimprudence; he knew the exact value of every minute he delayed here.
"If any one rings," said he to Charlotte, "don't open the door. Nomatter what may be said or done, don't open the door!"
On hearing Noel's voice, Juliette ran out to meet him. He pushed hergently into the salon, and followed, closing the door.
There for the first time she saw his face.
He was so changed; his look was so haggard that she could not keep fromcrying out, "What is the matter?"
Noel made no reply; he advanced towards her and took her hand.
"Juliette," he demanded in a hollow voice, fastening his flashing eyesupon her,--"Juliette, be sincere; do you love me?"
She instinctively felt that something dreadful had occurred: sheseemed to breathe an atmosphere of evil; but she, as usual, affectedindifference.
"You ill-natured fellow," she replied, pouting her lips mostprovokingly, "do you deserve--"
"Oh, enough!" broke in Noel, stamping his feet fiercely. "Answer me," hecontinued, bruising her pretty hands in his grasp, "yes, or no,--do youlove me?"
A hundred times had she played with her lover's anger, delighting toexcite him into a fury, to enjoy the pleasure of appeasing him with aword; but she had never seen him like this before.
She had wronged him greatly; and she dared not complain of this hisfirst harshness.
"Yes, I love you," she stammered, "do you not know it?"
"Why?" replied the advocate, releasing her hands; "why? Because, ifyou love me you must prove it; if you love me, you must follow me atonce,--abandon everything. Come, fly with me. Time presses----"
The young girl was terrified.
"Great heavens! what has happened?"
"Nothing, except that I have loved you too much, Juliette. When I foundI had no more money for your luxury, your caprices, I became wild. Toprocure money, I,--I committed a crime,--a crime; do you understand?They are pursuing me now. I must fly: will you follow me?"
Juliette's eyes grew wide with astonishment; but she doubted Noel.
"A crime? You?" she began.
"Yes, me! Would you know the truth? I have committed murder, anassassination. But it was all for you."
The advocate felt that Juliette would certainly recoil from him inhorror. He expected that terror which a murderer inspires. He wasresigned to it in advance. He thought that she would fly from him;perhaps there would be a scene. She might, who knows, have hysterics;might cry out, call for succor, for help, for aid. He was wrong.
With a bound, Juliette flew to him, throwing herself upon him, her armsabout his neck, and embraced him as she had never embraced him before.
"Yes, I do love you!" she cried. "Yes, you have committed a crime formy sake, because you loved me. You have a heart. I never really knew youbefore!"
It had cost him dear to inspire this passion in Madame Juliette; butNoel never thought of that.
He experienced a moment of intense delight: nothing appeared hopeless tohim now.
But he had the presence of mind to free himself from her embrace.
"Let us go," he said; "the one great danger is, that I do not know fromwhence the attack comes. How they have discovered the truth is still amystery to me."
Juliette remembered her alarming visitor of the afternoon; sheunderstood it all.
"Oh, what a wretched woman I am!" she cried, wringing her hands indespair; "it is I who have betrayed you. It occurred on Tuesday, did itnot?"
"Yes, Tuesday."
"Ah, then I have told all, without a doubt, to your friend, the old manI supposed you had sent, Tabaret!"
"Has Tabaret been here?"
"Yes; just a little while ago."
"Come, then," cried Noel, "quickly; it's a miracle that he hasn't beenback."
He took her arm, to hurry her away; but she nimbly released herself.
"Wait," said she. "I have some money, some jewels. I
will take them."
"It is useless. Leave everything behind. I have a fortune, Juliette; letus fly!"
She had already opened her jewel box, and was throwing everything ofvalue that she possessed pell mell into a little travelling bag.
"Ah, you are ruining me," cried Noel, "you are ruining me!"
He spoke thus; but his heart was overflowing with joy.
"What sublime devotion! She loves me truly," he said to himself; "for mysake, she renounces her happy life without hesitation; for my sake, shesacrifices all!"
Juliette had finished her preparations, and was hastily tying on herbonnet, when the door-bell rang.
"It is the police!" cried Noel, becoming, if possible, even more livid.
The young woman and her lover stood as immovable as two statues, withgreat drops of perspiration on their foreheads, their eyes dilated, andtheir ears listening intently. A second ring was heard, then a third.
Charlotte appeared walking on tip-toe.
"There are several," she whispered; "I heard them talking together."
Grown tired of ringing, they knocked loudly on the door. The sound of avoice reached the drawing-room, and the word "law" was plainly heard.
"No more hope!" murmured Noel.
"Don't despair," cried Juliette; "try the servants' staircase!"
"You may be sure they have not forgotten it."
Juliette went to see, and returned dejected and terrified. She baddistinguished heavy foot-steps on the landing, made by some oneendeavouring to walk softly.
"There must be some way of escape!" she cried fiercely.
"Yes," replied Noel, "one way. I have given my word. They are pickingthe lock. Fasten all the doors, and let them break them down; it willgive me time."
Juliette and Charlotte ran to carry out his directions. Then Noel,leaning against the mantel piece, seized his revolver and pointed it athis breast.
But Juliette, who had returned, perceiving the movement, threw herselfupon her lover, but so violently that the revolver turned aside andwent off. The shot took effect, the bullet entering Noel's stomach. Heuttered a frightful cry.
Juliette had made his death a terrible punishment; she had prolonged hisagony.
He staggered, but remained standing, supporting himself by the mantelpiece, while the blood flowed copiously from his wound.
Juliette clung to him, trying to wrest the revolver from his grasp.
"You shall not kill yourself," she cried, "I will not let you. You aremine; I love you! Let them come. What can they do to you? If theyput you in prison, you can escape. I will help you, we will bribe thejailors. Ah, we will live so happily together, no matter where, far awayin America where no one knows us!"
The outer door had yielded; the police were now picking the lock of thedoor of the ante-chamber.
"Let me finish!" murmured Noel; "they must not take me alive!"
And, with a supreme effort, triumphing over his dreadful agony, hereleased himself, and roughly pushed Juliette away. She fell down nearthe sofa.
Then, he once more aimed his revolver at the place where he felt hisheart beating, pulled the trigger and rolled to the floor.
It was full time, for the police at that moment entered the room.
Their first thought was, that before shooting himself, Noel had shot hismistress. They knew of cases where people had romantically desiredto quit this world in company; and, moreover, had they not heard tworeports? But Juliette was already on her feet again.
"A doctor," she cried, "a doctor! He can not be dead!"
One man ran out; while the others, under old Tabaret's direction, raisedthe body, and carried it to Madame Juliette's bedroom where they laid iton the bed.
"For his sake, I trust his wounds are mortal!" murmured the olddetective, whose anger left him at the sight. "After all, I loved him asthough he were my own child; his name is still in my will!"
Old Tabaret stopped. Noel just then uttered a groan, and opened hiseyes.
"You see that he will live!" cried Juliette.
The advocate shook his head feebly, and, for a moment, he tossed aboutpainfully on the bed, passing his right hand first under his coat, andthen under his pillow. He even succeeded in turning himself half-waytowards the wall and then back again.
Upon a sign, which was at once understood, someone placed another pillowunder his head. Then in a broken, hissing voice, he uttered a few words:"I am the assassin," he said. "Write it down, I will sign it; it willplease Albert. I owe him that at least."
While they were writing, he drew Juliette's head close to his lips.
"My fortune is beneath the pillow," he whispered. "I give it all toyou."
A flow of blood rose to his mouth; and they all thought him dead. But hestill had strength enough to sign his confession, and to say jestinglyto M. Tabaret, "Ah, ha, my friend, so you go in for the detectivebusiness, do you! It must be great fun to trap one's friends in person!Ah, I have had a fine game; but, with three women in the play, I wassure to lose."
The death struggle commenced, and, when the doctor arrived, he couldonly announce the decease of M. Noel Gerdy, advocate.
CHAPTER XX.
Some months later, one evening, at old Mademoiselle de Goello's house,the Marchioness d'Arlange, looking ten years younger than when we sawher last, was giving her dowager friends an account of the wedding ofher granddaughter Claire, who had just married the Viscount Albert deCommarin.
"The wedding," said she, "took place on our estate in Normandy, withoutany flourish of trumpets. My son-in-law wished it; for which I think heis greatly to blame. The scandal raised by the mistake of which he hadbeen the victim, called for a brilliant wedding. That was my opinion,and I did not conceal it. But the boy is as stubborn as his father,which is saying a good deal; he persisted in his obstinacy. And myimpudent granddaughter, obeying beforehand her future husband, alsosided against me. It is, however, of no consequence; I defy anyone tofind to-day a single individual with courage enough to confess that heever for an instant doubted Albert's innocence. I have left the youngpeople in all the bliss of the honeymoon, billing and cooing like apair of turtle doves. It must be admitted that they have paid dearlyfor their happiness. May they be happy then, and may they have lots ofchildren, for they will have no difficulty in bringing them up and inproviding for them. I must tell you that, for the first time in hislife, and probably for the last, the Count de Commarin has behaved likean angel! He has settled all his fortune on his son, absolutely all. Heintends living alone on one of his estates. I am afraid the poor dearold man will not live long. I am not sure that he has entirely recoveredfrom that last attack. Anyhow, my grandchild is settled, and grandlytoo. I know what it has cost me, and how economical I shall have to be.But I do not think much of those parents who hesitate at any pecuniarysacrifice when their children's happiness is at stake."
The marchioness forgot, however, to state that, a week before thewedding, Albert freed her from a very embarrassing position, and haddischarged a considerable amount of her debts.
Since then, she had not borrowed more than nine thousand francs of him;but she intends confessing to him some day how greatly she is annoyed byher upholsterer, by her dressmaker, by three linen drapers, and by fiveor six other tradesmen.
Ah, well, she is all the same a worthy woman; she never says anythingagainst her son-in-law!
Retiring to his father's home in Poitou, after sending in hisresignation, M. Daburon has at length found rest; forgetfulness willcome later on. His friends do not yet despair of inducing him to marry.
Madame Juliette is quite consoled for the loss of Noel. The eightythousand francs hidden by him under the pillow were not taken from her.They are nearly all gone now though. Before long the sale of a handsomesuite of furniture will be announced.
Old Tabaret, alone, is indelibly impressed. After having believed in theinfallibility of justice, he now sees every where nothing but judicialerrors.
The ex-amateur detective doubts the very existenc
e of crime, andmaintains that the evidence of one's senses proves nothing. Hecirculates petitions for the abolition of capital punishment, and hasorganised a society for the defence of poor and innocent prisoners.
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