CHAPTER IV.
"This is an impertinence, sir!" exclaimed the marquis angrily, asIsidore, without any announcement, entered the private apartment inwhich Madame de Valricour had just concluded her interview.
"My father," replied Isidore firmly, "there are times and circumstanceswhich oblige us to lay aside all ceremony. At a moment like this thelast thing I could desire is to offend you, but----"
"The circumstances, sir," answered the marquis, "are such as to makeany want of respect on your part an additional insult, and you aremistaken if you think that you can thus presume on the forbearance Ihave too blindly shown towards you."
"I will not appeal either to your forbearance or your affection, sir,though I cannot forget either," answered Isidore, "because I know thatyou are just now unfairly prejudiced against me by Madame de Valricour."
"How dare you say this to my face, sir!" retorted the marquis with avehemence very unusual in him. "You should know, sir, that your auntis one who is utterly incapable of such conduct towards any person, andyour ingratitude to one who has ever been most indulgent andaffectionate to you makes your proceedings even more reprehensible.Begone, sir! I will not listen to you."
"Sir, I ask no favour of your kindness, but I demand it of your senseof justice that you listen to me, and do not condemn me unheard. I donot expect to be denied, merely because I am your son, a right Ibelieve you accord even to the meanest of your servants."
For a moment or so the marquis made no reply. However blinded he mightbe by his anger, he could have no plausible reason for refusing thisrequest.
"Well, sir," said he at last, "you have liberty to speak, but have acare that you make no more insinuations against your estimable aunt,and let us have no silly sentiment. We have to do with facts, and tothese you will confine yourself. If you can disprove what Madame deValricour alleges, so much the better for you, but that you cannot do.You have told her that I--yes, I--approved of your engaging yourself tothis Marguerite Lacroix. Why, sir, if you had seen it in my ownhandwriting you would have hardly been justified in believing your owneyes, but you know, and knew, that I never wrote anything of the kind.I can scarcely command patience to speak of such an absurdity. Besidesthis, you have for a long time past been paying to your cousin adevotion so manifest that Madame de Valricour assures me it is thecommon talk, and I can share with her in her indignation at thehumiliating position in which you have placed her unhappy daughter."
"Nay," rejoined Isidore, who felt almost inclined to laugh,notwithstanding his vexation, "this is really too absurd. I can notonly vouch for it that Clotilde does not care for me, but that sheknows I never dreamed of paying her any special attention. I canassure you that she is aware of the position in which MademoiselleLacroix and I stand in regard to each other, and heartily rejoices atit."
At this the marquis broke out more indignantly than ever. "What, sir!Do you dare to own this to my face? Your excellent aunt, though shecould not altogether disguise her fears, evidently allowed heraffection for you to deter her from accusing you of such effrontery,but it is now clear that there has been a secret understanding betweenyou all to deceive her, and the falsification of my letter to you is afitting climax to such behaviour."
"Falsification, sir!" retorted Isidore indignantly. "You are the onlyman living whom I would permit to use that word with impunity."
"I repeat the word," replied the marquis, sternly. "I cannot doubt,even if any other part of my letter could have been misunderstood, thatI must have mentioned your cousin Clotilde's name in connection withthis affair. To pretend the contrary is as impudent as it is absurd."
"It is a fortunate thing that I can at least prove to you that yourletter not only did not mention my cousin's name, but that it leftample room for misconception," answered Isidore, feeling in his pocketfor the all-important missive; "though I may add that to you alone,sir, would I condescend to attempt to clear myself of such animputation."
The marquis started slightly, and regarded him with a look in whichexpectation seemed mingled with distrust. In vain, however, didIsidore search one pocket after another; the letter was not there.
"This is most annoying," said he at last; "I must have left it atValricour."
"Of course," rejoined the marquis, sarcastically, "very unfortunate,indeed! Perhaps I can assist you in your search for the missingdocument, or at least as much of it as you incautiously and unwittinglyleft undestroyed." So saying he drew forth from a drawer in hiswriting-table and held out towards his son a small piece of paper. Itwas all burnt at the edges, and from the signature still just legibleupon it, Isidore at once recognised it as a fragment of his father'sletter to him. He might well be amazed and dumbfounded. A minute agohe had supposed the letter safe in his pocket, and relied on it for hisjustification; now a shred of it, charred and defaced, was producedagainst him, in mute but irrefragable proof that he had himselfdestroyed it to cover his own falsehood and deceit.
"I suppose, sir," said the marquis, "as you pretend to be so muchastonished, that I must tell you that this little piece of paper wasfound in your chamber at the Chateau de Valricour. No, sir," hecontinued, more vehemently as Isidore attempted to speak, "I will nothear another word from lips already so basely, so vilely forsworn. Go!From this moment I disown you as my son. For the sake of others I willspare you any public degradation, and any punishment beyond thenecessity of seeking your fortune henceforward as you best may, with nosympathy or aid from me beyond a small allowance which I shall cause tobe remitted to you from time to time. For the rest, I have done withyou."
The last words were scarcely uttered when Isidore found himself alonewith his own reflections.
Tailpiece to Chapter IV]
Headpiece to Chapter V]
The King's Warrant: A Story of Old and New France Page 10
