Part 67 (1/2)
The new-comer uttered a terrible oath, and, in an almost threatening tone, he said:
”We will see about that! If you have gone mad, I, thank G.o.d! still possess my reason! I will not permit----”
”Pardon!” interrupted the other, coldly, ”you will permit it. This is merely the result of your own--credulity. When Chanlouineau asked you to allow him to receive a visit from Mademoiselle Lacheneur, that was the time you should have said: 'I will not permit it.' Do you know what the fellow desired? Simply to give Mademoiselle Lacheneur a letter of mine, so compromising in its natures that if it ever reaches the hands of a certain person of my acquaintance, my father and I will be obliged to reside in London in future. Then farewell to the projects for an alliance between our two families!”
The new-comer heaved a mighty sigh, accompanied by a half-angry, half-sorrowful exclamation; but the other, without giving him any opportunity to reply, resumed:
”You, yourself, Marquis, would doubtless be compromised. Were you not a chamberlain during the reign of Bonaparte? Ah, Marquis! how could a man of your experience, a man so subtle, and penetrating, and acute, allow himself to be duped by a low, ignorant peasant?”
Now M. d'Escorval understood. He was not dreaming; it was the Marquis de Courtornieu and Martial de Sairmeuse who were talking on the other side of the wall.
This poor M. de Courtornieu had been so entirely crushed by Martial's revelation that he no longer made any effort to oppose him.
”And this terrible letter?” he groaned.
”Marie-Anne Lacheneur gave it to Abbe Midon, who came to me and said: 'Either the baron will escape, or this letter will be taken to the Duc de Richelieu.' I voted for the baron's escape, I a.s.sure you. The abbe procured all that was necessary; he met me at a rendezvous which I appointed in a quiet spot; he coiled all his rope about my body, and here I am.”
”Then you think if the baron escapes they will give you back your letter?”
”Most a.s.suredly.”
”Deluded man! As soon as the baron is safe, they will demand the life of another prisoner, with the same menaces.”
”By no means.”
”You will see.”
”I shall see nothing of the kind, for a very simple reason. I have the letter now in my pocket. The abbe gave it to me in exchange for my word of honor.”
M. de Courtornieu's exclamation proved that he considered the abbe an egregious fool.
”What!” he exclaimed. ”You hold the proof, and--But this is madness!
Burn this accursed letter by the flames of this lantern, and let the baron go where his slumbers will be undisturbed.”
Martial's silence betrayed something like stupor.
”What! you would do this--you?” he demanded, at last.
”Certainly--and without the slightest hesitation.”
”Ah, well! I cannot say that I congratulate you.”
The sneer was so apparent that M. de Courtornieu was sorely tempted to make an angry response. But he was not a man to yield to his first impulse--this former chamberlain under the Emperor, now become a _grand prevot_ under the Restoration.
He reflected. Should he, on account of a sharp word, quarrel with Martial--with the only suitor who had pleased his daughter? A rupture--then he would be left without any prospect of a son-in-law!
When would Heaven send him such another? And how furious Mlle. Blanche would be!
He concluded to swallow the bitter pill; and it was with a paternal indulgence of manner that he said:
”You are young, my dear Martial.”