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Then his own face flushed, and after an instant's hesitation, he added: "But I entertain the most profound and reverent love for a young girl, the most beautiful and chaste being on earth a girl who, in intelligence and heart, is worthy of you, my own mother." Madame Ferailleur nodded her head gravely, as much as to say that she had expected to find a woman at the bottom of the mystery.
She is known as Mademoiselle Marguerite." Madame d'Argeles listened, leaning against the wall for support, and trembling like a leaf. Her reason was shaken by so many repeated blows, and her son, her brother, Marguerite, Pascal Ferailleur, Coralth, Valorsay all those whom she loved or feared, or hated rose like spectres before her troubled brain.
Madame Ferailleur understood this feeling; but she was a mother, and as such, jealous of her son's tenderness, and anxious for particulars concerning this rival who had suddenly usurped her place in the heart where she had long reigned supreme. She was also a woman that is to say, distrustful and suspicious in reference to all other women.
This name sent Pascal's blood to his brain. "Ah, the scoundrel!" he exclaimed. "If there was a God in heaven " "Wretched boy!" interrupted Madame Ferailleur; "you blaspheme when Providence has already interposed on your behalf. And who suffers most at this moment, do you think? you, strong in your innocence, or the marquis, who realizes that he has committed an infamous crime in vain?"
I am sure of this, and I know she told a porter there that her destination was London. M. Ferailleur is now en route for America, and we shall never hear of him again!" Mademoiselle Marguerite shook her head. "You are mistaken, sir," said she. "There can be no mistake about what I have just told you." "I don't question the result of your investigations, but appearances are deceitful.
Return home at once; you will receive my instructions to-morrow." Mademoiselle Marguerite had been greatly surprised on the occasion of her visit to M. Fortunat when she saw Victor Chupin suddenly step forward and eagerly exclaim: "I shall be unworthy of the name I bear if I do not find M. Ferailleur for you in less than a fortnight."
Madame Ferailleur seemed to be expecting something more, and as Pascal remained silent, she remarked: "You spoke of a great misfortune. In what does it consist? I do not perceive it."
It finished by demanding a thorough investigation. And M. Wilkie copied and signed this document, and carried it to the prosecution office himself." Mademoiselle Marguerite sank half-fainting into an arm-chair. "You have done this!" she faltered. "It was necessary, my daughter," whispered Madame Ferailleur. "Yes, it was necessary, absolutely necessary," repeated Pascal, "as you will see.
Who aided you in defrauding Kami-Bey? Who bet for you against your own horse Domingo? Who risked his life in slipping those cards in the pack which Pascal Ferailleur held? It was Coralth, always Coralth." A gesture of anger escaped the marquis, but resolving to restrain himself, he made no rejoinder.
But the next instant he heard some one fling open the door of the large room adjoining, and then a coarse, guttural voice called out: "What! he isn't here! This is too much!" The baron made an angry gesture. "That's Kami-Bey," said he, "the Turk whom I am playing that great game of cards with. The devil take him! He will be sure to force his way in here so we may as well join him, M. Ferailleur."
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