XIV.
It was nearly midnight when M. Wilkie left the Hotel d'Argeles after theterrible scene in which he had revealed his true character. On seeinghim pass out with haggard eyes, colorless lips, and disordered clothing,the servants gathered in the vestibule took him at first for another ofthose ruined gamblers who not unfrequently left the house with despairin their hearts.
"Another fellow who's had bad luck!" they remarked sneeringly to oneanother.
"No doubt about that. He is pretty effectually used up, judging fromappearances," one of them remarked.
It was not until some moments later that they learned a portion of thetruth through the servants who had been on duty upstairs, and who nowran down in great terror, crying that Madame d'Argeles was dying, andthat a physician must be summoned at once.
M. Wilkie was already far away, hastening up the boulevard with an agilestep. Any one else would have been overcome with shame and sorrow--wouldhave been frightened by the thought of what he had done, and havestriven to find some way to conceal his disgrace; but he, not in theleast. In this frightful crisis, he was only conscious of one fact--thatjust as he raised his hand to strike Madame Lia d'Argeles, his mother, abig, burly individual had burst into the room, like a bombshell, caughthim by the throat, forced him upon his knees, and compelled him to askthe lady's pardon. He, Wilkie, to be humiliated in this style! He wouldnever endure that. This was an affront he could not swallow, one ofthose insults that cry out for vengeance and for blood. "Ah! the greatbrute shall pay for it," he repeated, again and again, grinding histeeth. And if he hastened up the boulevard, it was only because hehoped to meet his two chosen friends, M. Costard and the Viscount deSerpillon, the co-proprietors of Pompier de Nanterre.
For he intended to place his outraged honor in their care. They shouldbe his seconds, and present his demand for satisfaction to the manwho had insulted him. A duel was the only thing that could appease hisfurious anger and heal his wounded pride. And a great scandal, which hewould be the hero of, was not without a certain charm for him. What aglorious chance to win notoriety at an epoch when newspapers have becomepublic laundries, in which every one washes his soiled linen and driesit in the glare of publicity! He saw his already remarkable reputationenhanced by the interest that always attaches to people who are talkedabout, and he could hear in advance the flattering whisper which wouldgreet his appearance everywhere: "You see that young man?--he is thehero of that famous adventure," etc. Moreover, he was already twistingand turning the terms of the notice which his seconds must have insertedin the Figaro, hesitating between two or three equally startlingbeginnings: "Another famous duel," or "Yesterday, after a scandalousscene, an encounter," etc., etc.
Unfortunately, he did not meet either M. Costard or the Viscount deSerpillon. Strange to say, they were not in any of the cafes, wherethe flower of French chivalry usually congregates, in the company ofgolden-haired young women, from nine in the evening until one o'clock inthe morning. This disappointment grieved M. Wilkie sorely, althoughhe derived some benefit from it, for his disordered attire attractedattention at each place he entered, and acquaintances eagerly inquired:"Where have you come from, and what has happened to you?" Whereuponhe replied with an air of profound secrecy: "Pray don't speak of it. Ashocking affair! If it were noised abroad I should be inconsolable."
At last the cafes began to close, and promenaders became rare. M.Wilkie, much to his regret, was obliged to go home. When he had lockedhis door and donned his dressing-gown, he sat down to think over theevents of the day, and collect his scattered wits. What most troubledand disquieted him was not the condition in which he had left Madame Liad'Argeles, his mother, who was, perhaps, dying, through his fault! Itwas not the terrible sacrifice that this poor woman had made for him ina transport of maternal love! It was not the thought of the source fromwhich the money he had squandered for so many years had been derived.No, M. Wilkie was quite above such paltry considerations--good enoughfor commonplace and antiquated people. "He was too clever for that. Ah!yes. He had a stronger stomach, and was up with the times!" If hewere sorely vexed in spirit it was because he thought that the immenseproperty which he had believed his own had slipped, perhaps for ever,from his grasp. For rising threateningly between the Chalusse millionsand himself, he pictured the form of his father, this man whom he didnot know, but whose very name had made Madame d'Argeles shudder.
M. Wilkie was seized with terror when he looked his actual situationin the face. What was to become of him? He was certain that Madamed'Argeles would not give him another sou. She could not--he recognizedthat fact. His intelligence was equal to that. On the other hand, ifhe ever obtained anything from the count's estate, which was more thandoubtful, would he not be obliged to wait a long time for it? Yes, inall probability such would be the case. Then how should he live, howwould he be able to obtain food in the meantime? His despair was sopoignant that tears came to his eyes; and he bitterly deplored the stephe had taken. Yes, he actually sighed for the past; he longed to liveover again the very years in which he had so often complained of hisdestiny. Then, though not a millionaire by any means, he at leastwanted for nothing. Every quarter-day a very considerable allowancewas promptly paid him, and, in great emergencies, he could apply toMr. Patterson, who always sent a favorable answer if not drawn upon tooheavily. Yes, he sighed for that time! Ah! if he had only then realizedhow fortunate he was! Had he not been one of the most opulent membersof the society in which he moved? Had he not been flattered and admiredmore than any of his companions? Had he not found the most exquisitehappiness in his part ownership of Pompier de Nanterre!
Now, what remained? Nothing, save anxiety concerning the future, and allsorts of uncertainties and terrors! What a mistake! What a blunder hehad made! Ah! if he could only begin again. He sincerely wished that thegreat adversary of mankind had the Viscount de Coralth in his clutches.For, in his despair, it was the once dear viscount that he blamed,accused, and cursed.
He was in this ungrateful frame of mind when a loud, almost savage, ringcame at his door. As his servant slept in an attic upstairs, Wilkie wasquite alone in his rooms, so he took the lamp and went to open the doorhimself. At this hour of the night, the visitor could only be M. Costardor the Viscount de Serpillon, or perhaps both of them. "They haveheard that I was looking for them, and so they have hastened here," hethought.
But he was mistaken. The visitor was neither of these gentlemen, but M.Ferdinand de Coralth in person. Prudence had compelled the viscount toleave Madame d'Argeles's card-party one of the last, but as soon as hewas out of the house he had rushed to the Marquis de Valorsay's to holda conference with him, far from suspecting that he was followed, andthat an auxiliary of Pascal Ferailleur and Mademoiselle Margueritewas even then waiting for him below--an enemy as formidable as he washumble--Victor Chupin.
At sight of the man who had so long been his model--the friend who hadadvised what he styled his blunder--Wilkie was so surprised that healmost dropped his lamp. Then as his wrath kindled, "Ah! so it's you!"he exclaimed, angrily. "You come at a good time!"
But M. de Coralth was too much exasperated to notice Wilkie's strangegreeting. Seizing him roughly by the arm, and closing the door with akick, he dragged Wilkie back into the little drawing-room. "Yes, it'sI," he said, curtly. "It's I--come to inquire if you have gone mad?"
"Viscount!"
"I can find no other explanation of your conduct! What! You chooseMadame d'Argeles's reception day, and an hour when there are fiftyguests in her drawing-room to present yourself!"
"Ah, well! it wasn't from choice. I had been there twice before, and hadthe doors shut in my face."
"You ought to have gone back ten times, a hundred times, a thousandtimes, rather than have accomplished such an idiotic prank as this."
"Excuse me."
"What did I recommend? Prudence, calmness and moderation, persuasivegentleness, sentiments of the loftiest nature, tenderness, a shower oftears----"
"Possibly, but----"
"But instead of that, you fall upon this woman like a thunderbolt, andset the whole household in the wildest commotion. What could you bethinking of, to make such an absurd and frightful scene? For youhowled and shrieked like a street hawker, and we could hear you in thedrawing-room. If all is not irretrievably lost, there must be a specialProvidence for the benefit of fools!"
In his dismay, Wilkie endeavored to falter some excuses, but he wasonly able to begin a few sentences which died away, uncompleted in histhroat. The violence shown by M. de Coralth, who was usually as cold andas polished as marble, quieted his own wrath. Still toward the last hefelt disposed to rebel against the insults that were being heaped uponhim. "Do you know, viscount, that I begin to think this very strange,"he exclaimed. "If any one else had led me into such a scrape, I shouldhave called him to account in double-quick time."
M. de Coralth shrugged his shoulders with an air of contempt, andthreateningly replied: "Understand, once for all, that you had betternot attempt to bully me! Now, tell me what passed between your motherand yourself?"
"First I should like----"
"Dash it all! Do you suppose that I intend to remain here all night?Tell me what occurred, and be quick about it. And try to speak thetruth."
It was one of M. Wilkie's greatest boasts that he had an indomitablewill--an iron nature. But the viscount exercised powerful influence overhim, and, to tell the truth, inspired him with a form of emotion whichwas nearly akin to fear. Moreover, a glimmer of reason had at lastpenetrated his befogged brain: he saw that M. de Coralth was right--thathe had acted like a fool, and that, if he hoped to escape from thedangers that threatened him, he must take the advice of more experiencedmen than himself. So, ceasing his recriminations, he began to describewhat he styled his explanation with Madame d'Argeles. All went well atfirst; for he dared not misrepresent the facts.
But when he came to the intervention of the man who had prevented himfrom striking his mother, he turned crimson, and rage again filled hisheart. "I'm sorry I let myself get into such a mess!" he exclaimed. "Youshould have seen my condition. My shirt-collar was torn, and mycravat hung in tatters. He was much stronger than I--the contemptiblescoundrel!--ah! if it hadn't been for that---- But I shall have myrevenge. Yes, he shall learn that he can't trample a man under footwith impunity. To-morrow two of my friends will call upon him; and if herefuses to apologize or to give me satisfaction, I'll cane him."
It was evident enough that M. de Coralth had to exercise considerableconstraint to listen to these fine projects. "I must warn you that youought to speak in other terms of an honorable and honored gentleman," heinterrupted, at last.
"Eh! what! You know him then?"
"Yes, Madame d'Argeles's defender is Baron Trigault."
M. Wilkie's heart bounded with joy, as he heard this name. "Ah! thisis capital!" he exclaimed. "What! So it was Baron Trigault--the notedgambler--who owns such a magnificent house in the Rue de la Villel'Eveque, the husband of that extremely stylish lady, that notoriouscocotte----"
The viscount sprang from his chair, and interrupting M. Wilkie: "Iadvise you, for the sake of your own safety," he said, measuring hiswords to give them greater weight, "never to mention the BaronessTrigault's name except in terms of the most profound respect."
There was no misunderstanding M. de Coralth's tone, and his glance saidplainly that he would not allow much time to pass before putting histhreat into execution. Having always lived in a lower circle to that inwhich the baroness sparkled with such lively brilliancy, M. Wilkie wasignorant of the reasons that induced his distinguished friend to defendher so warmly; but he DID understand that it would be highly imprudentto insist, or even to discuss the matter. So, in his most persuasivemanner, he resumed: "Let us say no more about the wife, but give ourattention to the husband. So it was the baron who insulted me! A duelwith him--what good luck! Well! he may sleep in peace to-night, but assoon as he is up in the morning he will find Costard and Serpillon onhand. Serpillon has not an equal as a second. First, he knows the bestplaces for a meeting; then he lends the combatants weapons when theyhave none; he procures a physician; and he is on excellent terms withthe journalists, who publish reports of these encounters."
The viscount had never had a very exalted opinion of Wilkie'sintelligence, but now he was amazed to see how greatly he hadoverestimated it. "Enough of such foolishness," he interrupted, curtly."This duel will never take place."
"I should like to know who will prevent it?"
"I will, if you persist in such an absurd idea. You ought to have senseenough to know that the baron would kick Serpillon out of the house, andthat you would only cover yourself with ridicule. So, between your dueland my help make your choice, and quickly."
The prospect of sending his seconds to demand satisfaction from BaronTrigault was certainly a very attractive one. But, on the other hand,Wilkie could not afford to dispense with M. de Coralth's services. "Butthe baron has insulted me," he urged.
"Well, you can demand satisfaction when you obtain possession of yourproperty: but the least scandal now would spoil your last chances."
"I will abandon the project, then," sighed Wilkie, despondently; "butpray advise me. What do you think of my situation?"
M. de Coralth seemed to consider a moment, and then gravely replied:"I think that, UNASSISTED, you have no chance whatever. You have nostanding, no influential connections, no position--you are not even aFrenchman."
"Alas! that is precisely what I have said to myself."
"Still, I am convinced that with some assistance you might overcome yourmother's resistance, and even your father's pretentions."
"Yes, but where could I find protectors?"
The viscount's gravity seemed to increase. "Listen to me," said he; "Iwill do for you what I would not do for any one else. I will endeavor tointerest in your cause one of my friends, who is all powerful by reasonof his name, his fortune, and his connections--the Marquis de Valorsay,in fact."
"The one who is so well known upon the turf?"
"The same."
"And you will introduce me to him?"
"Yes. Be ready to-morrow at eleven o'clock, and I will call for you andtake you to his house. If he interests himself in your cause, it is asgood as gained." And as his companion overwhelmed him with thanks,he rose, and said: "I must go now. No more foolishness, and be readyto-morrow at the appointed time."
Thanks to the surprising mutability of temper which was the moststriking characteristic of his nature, M. Wilkie was already consoledfor his blunder.
He had received M. de Coralth as an enemy; but he now escorted him tothe door with every obsequious attention--in fact, just as if he lookedupon him as his preserver. A word which the viscount had dropped duringthe conversation had considerably helped to bring about this suddenrevulsion of feelings. "You cannot fail to understand that if theMarquis de Valorsay espouses your cause, you will want for nothing. Andif a lawsuit is unavoidable, he will be perfectly willing to advance thenecessary funds." How could M. Wilkie lack confidence after that? Thebrightest hopes, the most ecstatic visions had succeeded the gloomyforebodings of a few hours before. The mere thought of being presentedto M. de Valorsay, a nobleman celebrated for his adventures, his horses,and his fortune, more than sufficed to make him forget his troubles.What rapture to become that illustrious nobleman's acquaintance,perhaps his friend! To move in the same orbit as this star of the firstmagnitude which would inevitably cast some of its lustre upon him! Nowhe would be a somebody in the world. He felt that he had grown ahead taller, and Heaven only knows with what disdain poor Costardand Serpillon would have been received had they chanced to presentthemselves at that moment.
It is needless to say that Wilkie dressed with infinite care on thefollowing morning, no doubt in the hope of making a conquest of themarquis at first sight. He tried his best to solve the problem ofappearing at the same time most recherche but at ease, excessivelyelegant and yet unostentatious; and he devoted himself to the task sounreservedly
that he lost all conception of the flight of time: sothat on seeing M. de Coralth enter his rooms, he exclaimed in unfeignedastonishment: "You here already?"
It seemed to him that barely five minutes had elapsed since he took hisplace before the looking-glass to study attitudes and gestures, witha new and elegant mode of bowing and sitting down, like an actorpractising the effects which are to win him applause.
"Why do you say 'already?'" replied the viscount. "I am a quarter of anhour behind time. Are you not ready?"
"Yes, certainly."
"Let us start at once, then; my brougham is outside."
The drive was a silent one. M. Ferdinand de Coralth, whose smooth whiteskin would ordinarily have excited the envy of a young girl, did notlook like himself. His face was swollen and covered with blotches, andthere were dark blue circles round his eyes. He seemed, moreover, to bein a most savage humor. "He hasn't had sleep enough," thought M. Wilkie,with his usual discernment; "he hasn't a bronze constitution likemyself."
M. Wilkie himself was insensible to fatigue, and although he hadnot closed his eyes the previous night, he only felt that nervoustrepidation which invariably attacks debutants, and makes the throat somarvellously dry. For the first, and probably the last time in his life,M. Wilkie distrusted his own powers, and feared that he was not "quiteup to the mark," as he elegantly expressed it.
The sight of the Marquis de Valorsay's handsome mansion was not likelyto restore his assurance. When he entered the courtyard, where themaster's mail-phaeton stood in waiting; when through the open doorsof the handsome stables he espied the many valuable horses neighing intheir stalls, and the numerous carriages shrouded in linen covers; whenhe counted the valets on duty in the vestibule, and when he ascended thestaircase behind a lackey attired in a black dress-coat, and as seriousin mien as a notary; when he passed through the handsome drawing-rooms,filled to overflowing with pictures, armor, statuary, and all thetrophies gained by the marquis's horses upon the turf, M. Wilkiementally acknowledged that he knew nothing of high life, and that whathe had considered luxury was scarcely the shadow of the reality. Hefelt actually ashamed of his own ignorance. This feeling of inferioritybecame so powerful that he was almost tempted to turn and fly, when theman clothed in black opened the door and announced, in a clear voice:"M. le Vicomte de Coralth!--M. Wilkie."
With a most gracious and dignified air--the air of a true GRANDseigneur--the only portion of his inheritance which he had preservedintact, the marquis rose to his feet, and, offering his hand to M. deCoralth, exclaimed: "You are most welcome, viscount. This gentleman isundoubtedly the young friend you spoke of in the note I received fromyou this morning?"
"The same; and really he stands greatly in need of your kindness. Hefinds himself in an extremely delicate position, and knows no one whocan lend him a helping hand."
"Ah, well, I will lend him one with pleasure, since he is your friend.But I must know the circumstances before I can act. Sit down, gentlemen,and enlighten me."
M. Wilkie had prepared his story in advance, a touching and wittynarrative; but when the moment came to begin it, he found himself unableto speak. He opened his mouth, but no sound issued from his lips, and itseemed as if he had been stricken dumb. Accordingly it was M. de Coralthwho made a statement of the case, and he did it well. The narrativethus gained considerably in clearness and precision; and even M. Wilkienoticed that his friend understood how to present the events in theirmost favorable light, and how to omit them altogether when his heartlessconduct would have appeared too odious. He also noticed--and heconsidered it an excellent omen--that M. de Valorsay was listening withthe closest attention.
Worthy marquis! if his own interests had been in jeopardy he could nothave appeared more deeply concerned. When the viscount had concludedhis story, he gravely exclaimed: "Your young friend is indeed in a mostcritical position, a position from which he cannot escape without beingterribly victimized, if he's left dependent on his own resources."
"But it is understood that you will help him, is it not?"
M. de Valorsay reflected for a little, and then, addressing M. Wilkie,replied: "Yes, I consent to assist you, monsieur. First, because yourcause seems to me just, and, also, because you are M. de Coralth'sfriend. I promise you my aid on one condition--that you will follow myadvice implicitly."
The interesting young man lifted his hand, and, by dint of a powerfuleffort, he succeeded in articulating: "Anything you wish!--upon mysacred word!"
"You must understand that when I engage in an enterprise, it mustnot fail. The eye of the public is upon me, and I have my PRESTIGE tomaintain. I have given you a great mark of confidence, for in lendingyou my influence I become, in some measure at least, your sponsor. ButI cannot accept this great responsibility unless I am allowed absolutecontrol of the affair."
"And I think that we ought to begin operations this very day. The mainthing is to circumvent your father, the terrible man with whom yourmother has threatened you."
"Ah! but how?"
"I shall dress at once and go to the Hotel de Chalusse, in order toascertain what has occurred there. You on your side must hasten toMadame d'Argeles and request her politely, but firmly, to furnish youwith the necessary proofs to assert your rights. If she consents, welland good! If she refuses, we will consult some lawyer as to the nextstep. In any case, call here again at four o'clock."
But the thought of meeting Madame d'Argeles again was anything butpleasing to Wilkie. "I would willingly yield that undertaking to someone else," said he. "Cannot some one else go in my place?"
Fortunately M. de Coralth knew how to encourage him. "What! are youafraid?" he asked.
Afraid! he?--never! It was easy to see that by the way he settled hishat on his head and went off, slamming the door noisily behind him.
"What an idiot!" muttered M. de Coralth. "And to think that there areten thousand in Paris built upon the very same plan!"
M. de Valorsay gravely shook his head. "Let us thank fortune that he isas he is. No youth who possessed either heart or intelligence would playthe part that I intend for him, and enable me to obtain proud Margueriteand her millions. But I fear he won't go to Madame d'Argeles's house.You noticed his repugnance!"
"Oh, you needn't trouble yourself in the least on that account--he'llgo. He would go to the devil if the noble Marquis de Valorsay orderedhim to do so."
M. de Coralth understood Wilkie perfectly. The fear of being considereda coward by a nobleman like the Marquis de Valorsay was more thansufficient, not only to divest him of all his scruples, but even toinduce him to commit any act of folly, or actually a crime. For if hehad looked upon M. de Coralth as an oracle, he considered the marquis tobe a perfect god.
Accordingly, as he hastened toward Madame d'Argeles's residence, he saidto himself: "Why shouldn't I go to her house? I've done her no injury.Besides, she won't eat me." And remembering that he should be obliged torender a report of this interview, he resolved to assert his superiorityand to remain cool and unmoved, as he had seen M. de Coralth do sooften.
However, the unusual aspect of the house excited his surprise, andpuzzled him not a little. Three huge furniture vans, heavily laden, werestanding outside the gate. In the courtyard there were two more vehiclesof the same description, which a dozen men or so were busily engagedin loading. "Ah, ha!" muttered M. Wilkie, "it was fortunate thatI came--very fortunate; so she was going to run away!" Thereupon,approaching a group of servants who were in close conference in thehall, he demanded, in his most imperious manner: "Madame d'Argeles!"
The servants remembered the visitor perfectly; they now knew whohe really was, and they could not understand how he could have theimpudence and audacity to come there again so soon after the shamefulscene of the previous evening. "Madame is at home," replied one of themen, in anything but a polite tone; "and I will go and see if she willconsent to see you. Wait here."
He went off, leaving M. Wilkie in the vestibule to settle his collar andtwirl his puny mustaches, with affecte
d indifference; but in reality hewas far from comfortable. For the servants did not hesitate to stareat him, and it was quite impossible not to read their contempt in theirglances. They even sneered audibly and pointed at him; and he heard fiveor six epithets more expressive than elegant which could only have beenmeant for himself. "The fools!" thought he, boiling with anger. "Thescoundrels! Ah! if I dared. If a gentleman like myself was allowed tonotice such blackguards, how I'd chastise them!"
But the valet who had gone to warn Madame d'Argeles soon reappearedand put an end to his sufferings. "Madame will see you," said the man,impudently. "Ah! if I were in her place----"
"Come, make haste," rejoined Wilkie, indignantly, and following theservant, he was ushered into a room which had already been divested ofits hangings, curtains, and furniture. He here found Madame d'Argelesengaged in packing a large trunk with household linen and sundryarticles of clothing.
By a sort of miracle the unfortunate woman had survived the terribleshock which had at first threatened to have an immediately fataleffect. Still she had none the less received her death-blow. It wasonly necessary to look at her to be assured of that. She was so greatlychanged that when M. Wilkie's eyes first fell on her, he asked himselfif this were really the same person whom he had met on the previousevening. Henceforth she would be an old woman. You would have taken herfor over fifty, so terrible had been the sufferings caused her by theshameful conduct of her son. In this sad-eyed, haggard-faced woman, cladin black, no one would have recognized the notorious Lia d'Argeles, who,only the evening before, had driven round the lake, reclining on thecushions of her victoria, and eclipsing all the women around her by thesplendor of her toilette. Nothing now remained of the gay worldling butthe golden hair which she was condemned to see always the same, sinceits tint had been fixed by dyes as indelible as the stains upon herpast.
She rose with difficulty when M. Wilkie entered, and in theexpressionless voice of those who are without hope, she asked: "What doyou wish of me?"
As usual, when the time came to carry out his happiest conceptions, hiscourage failed him. "I came to talk about our affairs, you know," hereplied, "and I find you moving."
"I am not moving."
"Nonsense! you can't make me believe that! What's the meaning of thesecarts in the courtyard?"
"They are here to convey all the furniture in the house to theauction-rooms."
Wilkie was struck dumb for a moment, but eventually recovering himself alittle, he exclaimed: "What! you are going to sell everything?"
"Yes."
"Astonishing, upon my honor! But afterward?"
"I shall leave Paris."
"Bah! and where are you going?"
With a gesture of utter indifference, she gently replied: "I don't know;I shall go where no one will know me, and where it will be possible forme to hide my shame."
A terrible disquietude seized hold of Wilkie. This sudden change ofresidence, this departure which so strongly resembled flight, this coldgreeting when he expected passionate reproaches, seemed to indicate thatMadame d'Argeles's resolution would successfully resist any amount ofentreaty on his part. "The devil," he remarked, "I don't think this atall pleasant! What is to become of me? How am I to obtain possession ofthe Count de Chalusse's estate? That's what I am after! It's rightfullymine, and I'm determined to have it, as I told you once before. And whenI've once taken anything into my head----"
He paused, for he could no longer face the scornful glances that Madamed'Argeles was giving him. "Don't be alarmed," she replied bitterly,"I shall leave you the means of asserting your right to my parents'estate."
"Ah--so----"
"Your threats obliged me to decide contrary to my own wishes. I feltthat no amount of slander or disgrace would daunt you."
"Of course not, when so many millions are at stake."
"I reflected, and I saw that nothing would arrest you upon your downwardpath except a large fortune. If you were poor and compelled to earn yourdaily bread--a task which you are probably incapable of performing--whocan tell what depths of degradation you might descend to? With yourinstincts and your vices, who knows what crime you wouldn't commit toobtain money? It wouldn't be long before you were in the dock, and Ishould hear of you only through your disgrace. But, on the other hand,if you were rich, you would probably lead an honest life, like manyothers, who, wanting for nothing, are not tempted to do wrong, who, infact, show virtue in which there is nothing worthy of praise. For realvirtue implies temptation--a struggle and victory."
Although he did not understand these remarks very well, M. Wilkieevinced a desire to offer some objections; but Madame d'Argeles hadalready resumed: "So I went to my notary this morning. I told himeverything; and by this time my renunciation of my rights to the estateof the Count de Chalusse is already recorded."
"What! your renunciation. Oh! no."
"Allow me to finish since you don't understand me. As soon as I renouncethe inheritance it becomes yours."
"Truly?"
"I have no wish to deceive you. I only desire that the name of Liad'Argeles should not be mentioned. I will give you the necessary proofsto establish your identity; my marriage contract and your certificate ofbirth."
It was joy that made M. Wilkie speechless now. "And when will you giveme these documents?" he faltered, after a short pause.
"You shall have them before you leave this house; but first of all Imust talk with you."
Baron Trigault's Vengeance Page 14
